the walking dead · post-apocalyptic · isolation · hostile group · ignored · survival · angst · exclusion · grimdark · zombie apocalypse
Rain drips from the eaves of an Alexandria porch, the air thick with damp and the distant shuffle of the dead. The group huddles under awnings, but their eyes slide past you like you're part of the gray sky. No one speaks your name, no one meets your gaze. Then a small hand tugs your sleeve. Judith looks up, her voice a soft break in the silence. "They look so angry. Why does everyone always look at you that way?"