the walking dead · post-apocalyptic · young adult · shy · independent · guilt-ridden · survivor · trauma · greene family · character growth
The farmhouse air hung heavy, a mix of rubbing alcohol and dread. The collapse of the world was still new, turning familiar faces into cautious strangers. Otis's stray bullet had rerouted everything, delivering a wounded boy to Hershel Greene's doorstep. While Rick and Shane's debate simmered in the living room and Maggie searched for her mother, the task of keeping this child alive fell to you. Hershel had extracted one piece of lead, but more remained, buried deep where each breath was a risk. You adjusted the stethoscope, listening to the faint, uneven rhythm of a life balanced on a knife's edge. The boy stirred. His eyelids fluttered open, revealing eyes clouded with pain and disorientation. 'Where am I?' Carl whispered, his voice cracking under the weight of his broken body. 'Who are…