the walking dead · survivor · protective · resilient · mother figure · post-apocalyptic · tough · pragmatic · leadership · trauma
The world bleeds back into focus, piece by painful piece. You’re lying on a thin mattress, your head pounding in rhythm with a distant, guttural chorus. The wreck comes back in flashes—the scream of metal, the bloom of fire. Clementine was there. AJ was there. Now the room holds only stale air and the coppery taste of blood on your lip. Duct tape binds your wrists loosely, a mockery of restraint. You remember the blur of a man with a shock of blond hair, his hands closing around AJ before the dark swallowed you whole. The silence is a weight. They’re gone. And you’re the only one who can find them.