"Andrea? Are you awake? I can't sleep," says Nick, turning over in his sheets. "Andrea? C'mon, please wake up. I need to talk to you. We haven't talked at all today. Are you ignoring me?" asks a persistent Nick, trying to awaken Andrea. "Yes. I have been ignoring you," Andrea admits. She had an upsetting tone in her voice. "Why? We always talked back at the farm. I hate to be blunt, but ever since you went to Woodbury and found that Governor guy and you came back here to the prison, you've been acting so strange," says Nick. He puts his face in his pillow, sighing with resentfulness. The cell was dark, Nick's sketchpads organized neatly on his desk. His pencils were in a cup, starting to lose their erasers. He would have to ask for some when some people go on a run, or come with himself. He was only 14, but he managed. He lies in his bed now, looking at the top bunk. "Answer me please. I want an answer bef-," he is interrupted. "I'm not talking to you because I don't want you to get attached again. Before we left the farm, or before you left the farm with the group, you called me mom. I don't want you to see me like that, because I might not make it through this situation. I'm trying my best to get the prison and Woodbury to get on good terms each other. But, I have this feeling that I'm not going to make it. I feel like I'm not going to make it alive out of this mess. Hell, even Carol told me to kill the Governor. If he were to catch me, I'd be dead in an instant. I'd probably end up in his "fish tank". What I'm trying to say is that I don't want to rebuild our bond until this is all over. Now you've got your answer, so go to sleep," says Andrea. Nick nods, and then puts his head back onto his pillow. But he doesn't sleep, he just thinks.
I walked in the woods alone. I was covered in brown and red blood from walkers. I rubbed it on my sweatshirt and on my jeans on purpose, actually. I walked right through a couple of walkers, imitating them and laughing to myself. I was lucky that they didn't detect me. But in all honesty, I didn't really care. So what if they bit me? I'd die and join the rest of them. Carol, Andrea, Rick, Carl, Tyreese, Michonne, everyone. There is no way everyone made it out alive. Maybe the bus did, or maybe some of those listed got away. I doubt it. We've all been with a group for so long; I bet most of us forgot how to survive on our own. I wouldn't say I'm suicidal, but I'm close to it. There is no chance in hell I'll find any of them. However, part of me says to keep going. Maybe they are out there. Maybe I'll find somewhere safe to go. As I keep walking, I find a neighborhood. Old houses, most of them need roofs. It looks similar to my old town in Pennsylvania. That is quite a long story of how I ended up in Georgia. I'll save that for later. I find a small house and use my pocket knife to try and open the door. After some struggling, it opens. I take my pistol out and hold it close to me. I bang on the wall, telling any walkers in here to come and play. The first floor is safe. The windows are already boarded up, so that's convenient. I slowly make my way to the second floor. I check the rooms, opening closets and whatnot. I find a drawer with a sketchpad and some pencils, score!
The whole house is clear. I guess who ever lived here got out. It would have been easier if they left the door unlocked, though. The kitchen had a couple cans of soup and some canned chicken. Wow, this is probably the best house I've found yet. I move a chair over to the door, something Carol had taught me a couple months ago. I missed Carol. After Andrea died, Carol sort of took over as a motherly figure for me. It seemed that everyone had a parental kind of figure. Carl had Michonne and Rick, Sophia had Daryl and Carol. Lizzie and Mika had Carol, too. I was close with Glenn and Maggie, too. They were sort of all the kid's aunt and uncle. Herschel was "grandpa", or Carl even called him "Santa" once, man that was funny. Well, it wasn't that funny, but very little things were funny then. I opened the can of chicken and ate some of it, then setting it aside. I changed into my other pair of skinny jeans and my blue and gray flannel. I went upstairs and climbed into one of the cleanest beds I could find. I said a prayer and went to sleep, wondering if anyone really made it out of the prison alive.
As I woke up, it started to rain. Thank god for that. It is actually much easier to travel in the rain, especially with thunder. The walkers get so easily distracted by the sound of it. It is weird how they get stupider. Back in Atlanta, I heard some of them were pretty smart. One even used a rock to bash a window. I think as time goes on, they are starting to get weak. I mean, they are decaying corpses, so of course they are going to get weak. But I believe that in a couple more years, they are just going to fall apart and turn into mush. Maybe then human civilization will rebuild, but who knows. I pack my stuff up and head out, grabbing a jacket from one of the rooms as I left. I left my bloody clothes behind as well as a piece of paper saying, "Nick was here. I'm heading to the coast." I decided that the coast was the best place to go. Michonne used to talk about that, so maybe she could end up there. I pull out a map I found and use my pencil to mark some important stops along the way. I'm going to stop at the farm on the way there, in case anybody may have stopped there. I walked for an hour or so, stopping at a post office. I sat out front, just resting. A walker noticed me, coming towards the bench. I pulled out my knife and walked toward it. I kicked him in the ribs and he wobbled a bit, allowing me to strike him in the head. My knife went right in and pulled right back out. I wiped some blood off my hand and decided to keep moving. As it got darker I found another house with a cellar towards the back. I went down into it and closed to metal latch, sealing me inside. There were a couple of holes in it for air, though.