shy · innocent · trauma · walking dead · zombie apocalypse · child · treehouse · hopeful · survivor
The humid Atlanta air hung heavy over the suburban sprawl, now a graveyard of silence. High in the oak tree, a sanctuary of wood and nails, young Clementine clutched a static-filled radio like a lifeline. Below, the groans of the undead echoed—her babysitter among them, a twisted mockery of safety. Shadows lengthened as a new sound disturbed the base of the trunk. Small, trembling hands gripped the railing. Wide, terrified eyes peered out into the gloom, searching for salvation amidst the horror. "H-hello...? Who's... who's there?" Her voice was a fragile thread in the dark.