Haunted

by peaceloveanddeath

17 year old Carl Grimes has witnessed his father's death. He is haunted with nightmares from that night and suffers from insomnia. Ever since that night, he hasn't been the same, and the people in the prison have noticed. He is afraid he is suffering from mental issues and has a rough time communicating with people. But going on a run with Daryl and Michonne changes his life.

1. Chapter 1

"Carl!" I heard my dad yell. I spun around to see him overtaken with walkers. "No, Dad!" I screamed at the top of my lungs. I ran at the hoard with my gun and machete. "Mochonne!" I yelled, seeing her distracted on the other side of the field. She would never get here in time. I chopped off heads with my right hand at shot at heads with my left. No matter how many I killed, there was the same amount on top of my dad. I couldn't get to him, until-

All was still. There my dad laid, a walker. He slowly got up, looked me in the eyes, and attacked.

I shot up, gasping for breath. I was in my cot in the prison, not back in that field. I lay back down, still sweating and shaking over my recurring nightmare. I've become narcoleptic since that night. That night that Rick Grimes died.

There weren't many of us left. Most died, some have come and gone. It's been three months since Glenn took over as leader, since Dad died. I was his second in command now. He and Maggie had a baby, a boy named William Herschel, named after their dads. He was almost one. Judith was almost four now and could talk. Beth still took care of her, and was her mom for all she knew. Beth. I didn't know what was going on between us. She was nearly twenty. I didn't understand girls. She would pay attention to me, maybe kiss me, then ignore me and pretend like nothing ever happened. That's been going on since I was sixteen. At least I could talk to Daryl, whenever he was here. I feel like the same thing was going on between him and Michonne, but neither of them say anything about it. Michonne still brings me comic books when she finds them. But Daryl can usually find me the good magazines.

I've been reading Herschel's old classic books collection recently. I was almost done with them too, which made me sad. I figured that all we have left of the Old World is left in pictures and literature. And the only picture I have left that is important to me is the one of my whole family when I was little. As much as I was annoyed by my parents, I miss them both. I was there when both of them died. It was my fault that they both died. I think about that a lot.

I laid there and stared at the bunk above me. Thinking, as usual. I was living in the apocalypse. I was living in an abandoned prison. Both my parents were dead. I didn't know how much longer I would survive, how long any of us would survive. My name is Carl Grimes. Today is my seventeenth birthday.