Carl wasn't having the best day. First the governer had rolled up to the gates of the prison and demanded the groups leave, Carl had then witnessed someone he had known for two years get his head chopped off with the cries of the mans daughters ringing through his ears. And after failing at finding his dad and stumbling upon a bloodied baby carrier Carl wasn't sure how much longer he could go before the situation he was in came crashing in.

After everything he had gone through and witnessed Carl had never truly been alone, not really. Sure he'd go on runs alone every now and then but he always knew that when he came back dad and Judy would be waiting for him, but now dad was missing and Judy was…

For the first time in a long time Carl was truly alone. And although he had plenty of survival skills and was more than capable of defending himself against walkers, he wasn't so sure about people. Although Carl knew he was capable of taking a life he wasn't so sure about defending himself against someone who wanted something from him, sure he had killed that kid at the prison a year ago but the kid wasn't really trying to kill him, the boy was just trying to escape, so what if Carl were to come face-to-face with someone who is trying to kill him.

Carl shook off the thought and kept on his way down the dirt road he was walking down.

…

Carter was starving. After three squirrels and a few other small creatures he was still unbelievably famished. Even though he did dine on any creature he came upon he couldn't remember the last time he had come upon a human, the last time he had sunk his fangs into an actual person rather than some random animal he was lucky enough to find.

Carter sighed in defeat and stood from the dusty couch in the living room of the abandoned house he'd been taking refuge in for the past few weeks. Carter never really stayed anywhere or with anyone for very long, maybe because he ended up hurting everyone he came across, everyone he cared about. One of the many cons of being a blood-thirsty monster.

Carter pulled on his jacket and stepped out of the two story house that stood next to a long stretch of road that used to be a neighbor hood, where kids played and suburban moms watered their gardens, a place where people used to be happy.

Carter frowned as he looked up at the sky to see a large cloud of smoke somewhere off in the distance. He shrugged and started down the road looking for something to eat.

…

Of course ending up a crying heap on the ground wasn't Carl's intention. He hadn't meant to think about it, about all the people he had lost only a few hours ago, or that he was completely and utterly alone, or that he might never see his family again, the people who took care of him, who were always there when he needed them.

Carl absolutely hated crying, he would chastise himself any time he felt tears well, he couldn't let them know how weak he truly was, that his emotional armor was all just a façade. He had been able to hold it all in. but every time he closed his eyes he saw that carrier covered in the blood of the one thing he had left of his mother. Beth and Maggie's cries resonated through his skull as he watched that sword swing again, and again, and again.

The tears poured down his pale cheeks without his consent, they were gone, they were all gone and he was all alone.

He would die, without dad, without hearing Michonne telling him everything would be okay, without hearing Judith laugh hysterically as he tickled her, without hearing Daryl say hot damn or Glenn telling some corny joke.

Because he was all alone. His hands fisted into his hair as even more hot tears poured down his face. He knew he shouldn't stay here, kneeling on the dirt road completely oblivious to his surroundings. He was out in the open completely defenseless something his dad taught him not to do. But at this point Carl couldn't find it in himself to care, not anymore, not without them, it was useless if they were all gone.

Carl scrubbed at the tears that wouldn't stop coming and futilely attempted to stand only to hiss in pain and fall back down into a pathetic heap. For the first time Carl noticed the large red stain on his pant leg.

Carl pulled up the denim over his leg and gasped at the jagged gash running from just below his knee to just above his ankle. He wasn't sure how he had gotten the wound he was so preoccupied trying to find dad and Judy and trying not to get killed that he must not have realized he had been injured.

Despite the burning pain from his leg carl stood holding in a cry. With clenched teeth and a limp Carl kept walking down the dirt road leaving behind a trail of blood.

…

Carter hadn't been walking long when he smelt the scent of fresh blood. It was extremely distinguishable between walker blood and a human, which he hadn't smelt in the longest time. Where as a walker's blood is rotten and vile smelling this blood was fresh and smelled utterly delicious.

With a growling stomach Carter followed the smell of sweet blood.

…

Carl felt like his leg was on fire he wasn't sure how much longer he could keep walking before he collapsed, all he knew was he needed to find shelter and supplies. He knew that if he didn't clean and dress his wound it would get infected especially with all the dirt from the road.

He limped barely able to stay on his feet without tripping over himself, he was breathing heavily. He knew that if someone or something were to attack him he would be doomed, even though he still had his gun. If someone were to take him by surprise he would be a goner.

As though the world was agreeing with him Carl stiffened at the feeling of a muzzle pressed against the back of his head.

"Turn around" the voice commanded.

I don't know if anyone is even going to read this but if you are here, please review and let me know what you think cause I'm not so sure about this story :(