L O S T

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A short chuckle mixed with a grunt, scoffing at the suggestion. Of course he couldn’t blame some kid for worrying over little things like that. But that didn’t make it any less annoying. If Merle hadn’t been so set on staying with these people, Daryl would have left a long time ago.

“Ain’t nothin’ bad gonna happen ‘less you go out and bring them dead geeks over here.”

Sophia wanted to glare at him, but she couldn’t muster the strength, all of her worry falling onto her expression as she chewed on her lower lip. She wasn’t meant for this, all this running from walkers and surviving in the wilderness. She had never really been allowed out into the big wide world before, and yet here she was, talking with a man her parents wouldn’t have even wanted near them, worrying about whether her mother had been attacked by zombies.

“Why do you have to be like that all the time?”

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         Would it be selfish of her to do just that? To have walked into this place with intent on helping, but end up just leaving with her daughter - alive? To run and never look back at whatever destruction was unfolding, to just ensure that neither one of them lost the other yet again?

          She had spent so long convincing herself that her daughter was gone, that she wasn’t ever coming back and honestly? It had changed her as a person. But now she was here right in front of her, her hands were on either side of her arms, where she’d placed them to pull her from the center of everything and she didn’t ever want to risk letting her go again. Though of course she knew that for all this time that they had been apart, someone must have been looking after Sophia, keeping her safe when she wasn’t there to be the one doing that. Whether it had been these people all that time or not, could she really just let them all inevitably die like this?

          The expression etched onto her features displayed the conflict running through her mind, and she knew that they didn’t have much time to deliberate on things. They needed to be fast, smart, if they wanted to survive. Eyes shifted from her girl briefly, needing to take in their surroundings before they were on her again, brows furrowed in a mix of worry, concern…

          “If we run…” Even if she knew they didn’t have time, it was the strangest thing in the world to think that the last time she saw her, was through tear filled eyes as she lay under that car on the highway - Lori holding her back from what would have probably caused both of their deaths. Sophia had just been a little girl then, but was now someone she was having to talk to so differently, she was older, and she had missed all that in between part. For all she knew, Sophia could have changed dramatically as a person just as she had too.

          “If we run… These people here they… They might not make it.” It’s harsh but it’s the truth and she needs Sophia to be aware of that before they make a decision. “I- I could help them.” There’s a nod of her head, she’s capable of that now. She’s just caught between going and ensuring her daughter’s safety, or saving those that very well could be the reason Sophia was still alive.

There was a pause as Sophia took in her mother’s words, dark eyes fixed on her mother’s expression as shallow breaths escaped her lips. She wanted nothing more than to run, to be safe and free, away from the madness and commotion around them. If they stayed, they would surely die. She had always been a meek kid, and her mother had never truly been a confident woman.

But the thought of leaving her family, her new family, to die.. she couldn’t do it.

“I-I don’t know.”

Tears spilled down her cheeks, fear pulsing through her every vein. What if her mother tried to help and got killed in the process? How could Sophia live with the knowledge that she had found the one person she cared about more than anything, only to have them snatched away?

How could she live with the thought that she’d leave innocent people to die?

“I don’t know how to help them. I-I can’t.”

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                 Klaus would perk up instantly & take his seat as soon as the girl moved , dropping his books carefully onto the desk’s surface with a hard THUMP . Organized & pristine , the middle Baudelaire was , as he picked from his book back his gold - lined , wooden pencil box & journal , glancing over at Sophia as she introduced herself . “ I’m KLAUS . How do you do ? ”

Sophia watched the boy organise his belongings, taking in the beauty of the pencil box and journal as she self-consciously pushed her own jotter and pen to the side of the desk, hoping he wouldn’t take much notice. The girl always felt a little at odds around those of money and status. There was never really anything she could think to say to them.

“Klaus.”

Repeating his name, she nodded politely, ducking her head so that her hair fell in front of her eyes. Eye contact wasn’t her strong point with new people, and she wasn’t intent on making a fool of herself on the first day.

“Why are you here so early?”

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         Despite her little girl’s words, at her simple action of comfort and her reassuring words, the woman couldn’t help but let her eyes close, lips pressing into a hard line as she could feel those tears brewing. How she’d managed to raise such a kind, perceptive girl in such an environment, she really did not know.

         She’d been stupid, again. Had been too busy dithering, being worried about what she was doing and cooking dinner, that she’d ended up messing it up. Should have known better. Should have learned by now. That was what he told her, that was what she then told herself. What she’d been hearing for years now. Of course, the entire thing had lead to a session of him yelling at her, of her pleading and crying and apologizing. There had been more, and now she was left feeling achy at the least, but she wasn’t about to say any of that to Sophia.

         She took in a deep breath, in hopes of composing herself, and she turned to look over at her daughter, feeling that sting of threatening tears yet again just looking at her, how innocent she was, and how much she adored her. She may be the only thing that kept her going.

                        “Baby… You deserve so much better than all of this.”

“Mom.”

She didn’t know what else to say, how else to bring comfort to the situation. It happened too often in their household; Her father letting his temper fly, her mother ending up in tears, and Sophia left with a thudding heart and a sickness in her stomach. They deserved better than this, she knew that, and yet she knew that this was where their fate lay.

He was a sick man. The things that he did to them were definitely not what normal fathers and husbands did. And yet sometimes Sophia wondered what a normal family picture looked like, wondered how it would feel to arrive home from school with a bright smile and a loving father to greet her. She deserved it sometimes, she knew. When she was being stupid or slow, or would say something wrong. But her mother never deserved any of it.

“Is Daddy coming back tonight?”

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Twenty. Yeah, that was enough to be a significant threat if things turned south. It might be safer just to get this girl close enough to the farm and cut her loose without being seen.

“Well, what kind of people are they? Friendly? Aggressive? Any loose cannon types? Basically, I need to know if they’re going to be a threat to me because that will determine how much I can help you. People are desperate now. Scared and defensive. Plenty of people will kill a stranger on sight to protect what little they have. I want to get you to safety, but I don’t want to get myself killed in the process, you know?”

The sunlight was gone now. From the sounds outside, it seemed the number of walkers had already increased. But Sandra paid no mind. She knew they wouldn’t try to get in if the pair of survivors didn’t give them a reason.

Friendly? Aggressive? Both. There were a whole mixture of characters in the camp; Some so sweet that nobody would dare say a bad word against them, and some who would blow up at the slightest hint of confrontation. Sophia tried to think of everyone, the men and women and children, who should be considered.

“Shane and Rick are the most aggressive, I think. And.. there’s another - I can’t remember his name. Daryl, I think. But.. I don’t think he cares that much about me, so it doesn’t matter about him.”

“My mom is really nice, but I don’t know if she’d do anything if she thought..”

If she thought Sophia was in trouble.

Gradually, Sophia spent the next ten minutes going through people in the group. Stating their names, general disposition, and whether they were a threat. Lori, Carl, Dale, Glenn. Even saying their names made her homesick, missing hearing their voices. It all seemed so much scarier out here.

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Lucille smiled as she watched the young girl put the jacket on. Lucille walked up to the young girl and took the jacket in her hands, shaking it a bit so it would fit the small girl better.

“Of course you can keep it, sweetie. I don’t need you getting sick.”

Lucille raised her brow when she noticed that Sophia muttered the word raided. She wasn’t sure if the young girl knew what the word meant, but she figured if the girl wanted to know, she would ask. She could sense that the energy was beginning to change in the room. She could tell something was bothering the young girl. Lucille let out a small sigh before she answered Sophia’s question.

“I’m nice to all the children here, sweetie.” she set her hands on Sophia’s arms, giving them a gentle squeeze. “I feel protective over you, Sophia. Trust me when I say as long as you stay here, nothing and no one will hurt you.”

“Thank you.”

A polite smile curved onto her lips, although it didn’t quite meet her eyes. No matter how kind the woman was being, she missed her mom, her friends. Strangers always made her feel uneasy, especially when she had only just met them not too long ago in the woods. Whether or not the woman meant her words, Sophia could not shake the feeling of dread.

Yet her ears perked up at the mention of children.

“There are others here? Other children?”

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       once he’d successfully passed the stick to his friend, carl placed his hands in his lap and leaned forward a bit, eyeing the strokes as sophia paddled. at her question, he nodded. ❛ yeah – my dad used to take me fishing sometimes. not a lot because he was usually busy, but … it was always really fun. ❜ it was a shame that she’d never been on a boat before, but there was a first time for everything. carl was a little proud to be able to experience this with her. ❛ so what do you think ? do you like it ? ❜

“Your dad is really nice.”

Not that Sophia knew him all that well, but from what she’d witnessed, he was a real dad to Carl. Looking out for him, teaching him things, taking him fishing. In some ways, Sophia envied the boy before her, although she wouldn’t trade her own mother for the whole world.

At his question, she parted her lips, about to answer, when the boat rocked slightly with the growing wind. It was a little scary, sure, but Sophia allowed a small laugh to fall past her lips as palms grasped the oar.

“I think so.”

[pcletier-blog]

So I have been inactive on this blog for almost a month because of personal reasons

But I really want to get back into roleplaying, and I miss this blog

I’m so super sorry for my absence

[pcletier-blog]

“They used to be in Florida,” she answered. “Now they’re probably dead.“ She finished the trail mix and cast the bag aside. “I came down here to look for them. Don’t know why…” If they were alive, they would have likely moved on. Florida was a big state and and one she couldn’t even guarantee they were still in. And if they were dead, well… she would be of no use except maybe to put them out of their misery if they were turned.

She sighed before changing the subject back to the matter at hand. “Your folks will probably be looking for you. You know how many are in your group?” Not all groups were friendly and traveling with one of their children could be dangerous. There was the possibility for a misunderstanding where they might think her a kidnapper rather than a good Samaritan. She needed to know what she was getting into. “What can you tell me about them?”

The answer to her question was uttered so quickly, before moving back to her own family. Sophia thought it best not to pry, knowing that so many people had experienced loss and trauma. She knew that she wouldn’t want to talk about it if something awful had happened to her family. Until then, she didn’t mind answering some of Sandra’s questions, even if the answers did get muddled in her mind.

“Uh..”

Mentally counting the group, their faces had all blurred into one. Her father had died before the attack, and who knows how many were gone now?

“About.. twenty, I think.”

“Well.. what do you want to know about them?”

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       Klaus’s lips pursed slightly at the stutter , at the statement , glancing slightly down at theDOODLES the girl had been concentrating so hard on . “ It’s not necessarily my assigned seat , just the desk I sit at every YEAR . ” Every year for the past 3 years , in fact . It was scarcely a problem , as no other student wanted to sit at the very FRONT of the classroom , but it appeared that this girl was not like the others .

       He had OPTIONS , of course - she had merely taken one seat at the front , there were plenty more seats in front row he could sit - but that was HIS seat , the one he had gotten comfortable in , the one he wanted . “ Perhaps you could move over one seat ? ”

None of Sophia’s friends were in this class, she suddenly remembered with a drop of the heart, which probably meant that she shouldn’t get on the wrong side of anybody. There would be nobody to back her up, should an argument happen. Even if this boy did seem polite and quite friendly, perhaps she shouldn’t take her chances.

“Oh, uh..”

“Yeah. Sure.”

All too hastily, the girl crumpled the paper in her grasp, shifting over to the seat on the right. It didn’t matter too much anyway. It was just a seat. Once settled into her new placement, she glanced over at the boy, a polite smile gracing her lips.

“I’m Sophia, by the way.”

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      once sophia is situated within the boat, carl follows and seats himself across from her ❛ yeah, ❜ he affirms, offering a small smile. ❛ we didn’t find any oars, but shane found a big stick … ❜ he touches his tongue to his top lip in concentration as he leans over to reach for the stick he has just mentioned, attempting to keep the boat straight at the same time. it rocks a bit, but not enough to tip over. once he’s reached the makeshift oar, he grips his hands around it and begins rowing slowly across the lake. a bit of the way across, he stops. ❛ you wanna try ? ❜

Sophia clutched onto the sides of the boat as it swayed gently with Carl’s weight, her knuckles turning white with the sheer grip. Yet, as they rowed together, the gentle breeze whipping at her hair, she began to relax, allowing her hands to rest on her lap. In silence, Sophia glanced over at the view from their tiny boat, the trees and the water looking so beautiful as they headed further out.

At his question, the girl turned back to look at her friend, squinting slightly as the sun caught her eyes. With a nod of the head, Sophia held her hand out, grasping the makeshift oar and letting it glide across the water.

“I’ve never actually been out on a boat before,” she confessed, gaze focused on the stick’s movements. Chewing on her lower lip, Sophia furrowed her brows in concentration. “Have you?”

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       Klaus & his sister Violet were always the first to arrive at school on the first day . They enjoyedeverything about the building , what was inside of it , & they could practically SMELL the lessons that were figuratively cooking inside of each & every classroom . This year was a bit different , as Violet had finally moved up to high school - 8th grade , as it was - while Klaus was just starting the6TH grade , as he was only a little over 12 years old . He missed walking down the halls with her , but a brightness rested in his eyes as he strolled toward his classroom , ready to settle in .

       His favorite copy of The Water Cycle ; Volume 196 was clutched tightly in one hand while the other pushed open the door , eyes searching for his NORMAL SPOT at the front of the classroom . To his dismay , Klaus found a girl sitting there ; a girl he hadn’t seen before with short hair , who was hunched over a piece of paper . Face fell as he strode toward her , standing over her with a studious yet STERN expression . “ Excuse me , but I’m afraid you’re in my seat . ”

Sophia could feel his eyes studying her, the boy’s frame tall and poised as he towered above her hunched position. Stopping her doodling, the girl internally cursed herself: Why did she have to pick the only seat in the whole classroom that would cause a confrontation? She could have just sat at the back like most kids would choose to.

Raising her head to glance at her newly-found companion, Sophia noted that she’d never seen him around before, which wasn’t particularly strange considering the size of the school. But then, that also meant that she didn’t know what he was like.

“I..”

Guilt flashed across dark hues, lips parted as she briefly considered just moving seats. That would be easier than trying to stand up for herself, right?

“I didn’t know we had assigned seats.”

[naragun-deactivated20161113]

I highly recommend you follow the person I reblogged this from.

[pcletier-blog]

@eiideticmemory

The first day of school was always the day that students tried their hardest, before falling back into the usual routine. Most children would pack their things the night before, make sure that they rose early, and arrived plenty of time before the bell rang for the first lesson. Sophia was no different, except perhaps her timing had been a little too good.

Clutching a piece of crumpled paper in her hand, reading the room number and teacher’s name, the girl entered the empty classroom, noting the time on the wall. Seven-thirty. A whole forty-five minutes early. Even earlier than the new teacher: Miss Browning, or something.

With only the ticking of the clock being the only audible sound, Sophia began to pass the time by doodling on the back of the paper. Stars and hearts and little cartoon people. After a full seven minutes of doing this, the sound of the door opening startled her into pausing, although she kept her head down, focusing on her scribbles.

With any luck, she would avoid any confrontation on her first day.

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Sandra nodded slowly. He probably got himself bit, she thought, but she wouldn’t say that to the already terrified little girl. Sure, the world was brutal now and she’d probably have to face these realities soon enough, but there was no need to burden her with excessive pessimism.

“Well, maybe he just got cut off. There were a lot of walkers out there.” As if on queue, a walker was at the window, dumbly pawing at the glass. Sandra ignored it until its groaning and the squeaking of its fingers on the glass annoyed her. She got up and drew a bowie knife before walking to the window and opening it a crack. “Hi, can I help you,” she asked rhetorically. The corpse pressed its face to the opening, giving her an opportunity to stab the knife through its eye socket. The walker fell and she closed the window before grabbing one of the couch cushions and ripping the already tattered upholstery off.

“Maybe he’s at the farm I saw,” she suggested as she tacked the fabric over the windows. She walked back and turned the Bunsen flame a little lower.

There were a lot of walkers out there. Sophia didn’t have to be told twice, the thought of it haunting her every nightmare. In truth, she knew that Rick had probably not made it from those woods, yet she refused to utter it. Refused to say it, in case it became too real. Until she saw him for herself, she decided that she would never know the whole truth.

The walker outside of the window caused Sophia to almost jump from her skin, yet she was becoming calmer with every attack. Sandra took care of them like they were nothing, just minor inconveniences rather than flesh eating creatures.

“Maybe.”

Eyes followed the woman’s moves, hands clasped together on her lap as she shifted awkwardly. She tried to muster the courage to ask the question that was stuck in her throat, one that she had been holding back since the beginning.

“Where’s your family?”

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Lucille knew the way she acted wasn’t like most women during a time like this. Even though Lucille lived in luxury, she always made sure to go out on runs, to go outside the walls of the Sanctuary to help remind herself that the world was still in shambles. Lucille couldn’t help but smile when the little girl accepted her offer.

“You’re welcome, dear.”

Lucille wasn’t positive if the coat would fit, most of the coats in her closet were spares for when she got tired of her leather jacket. It didn’t help that most of the coats belonged to Negan’s wives as well. It took everything in her power not to take them and burn them, not wanting those trashy bitches’ shit touching hers. Lucille snapped back to reality when she heard the young girl speak.

“No, it wasn’t. I took it when we raided some houses a few weeks ago. Never know when someone might need it.”

Shrugging the coat over her small frame, Sophia felt the soft fabric against her skin, suddenly missing her clothes from home. She was never from a wealthy family, with all the luxuries of walk-in wardrobes and too many clothes to count. But her mother always made sure that she had enough: clothes that were clean and comfortable, and most of all, her’s.

“I can keep it?”

The term ‘raided’ felt odd to the girl, sour on the tongue as she muttered it under her breath. She only hoped that the people in the home had left, but even so, stealing other people’s clothes still made her feel uneasy. The thought of another girl out there raiding her bedroom, taking her clothes and trinkets and jewellery, caused more anger in her than she thought that it would.

“Why are you being so nice to me?”

[lifeinpoetry]

I’ve been flinching for years,

Alice Notley, from “To Many,” Culture of One  (via thedestrcyer)