Dear Sophia,
The day we found you was a nice day.
The sun shone and the grass was all nice and warm. I took off my shoes to feel the tickle of it. At home, with Mom and Dad, I had always run around shoe- and sockless. Mom didn't like that, still doesn't like it but now for other obvious reasons.
"You have to run fast when they come", she says, "Bare feet will slow you down."
It's because of the ground. There is glass everywhere, Sophia. The world is a shattered mess.
The farm of Hershel is nice. I'm sure you would have liked it. There are even animals, like horses and chicken. Daryl promised to show me how to ride. One day, he said. They always say "one day", like there will be a time when suddenly everything is over and you can finally live again. But this time will never come, for none of us. They think they can't talk to me honest about it because I'm a kid. What they don't understand is that I'm as much as a kid as you were when you stepped out of that barn.
I miss you so much Sophia, you were my best friend. I wish we could have seen the Grand Canyon together, with Mom and Dad and Carol. That would have been the best trip ever.
Love,
Carl