Chapter 2: Lizzie and Mika - Carol

She was like a daughter to you. Both of those little girls were. You kept them close, nestled them under your wing, as if they could fill the void you carried with you each day. The void that I left with you when I took Sophia. Not a mean bone in her body. You had said those words about her. You asked God to forgive you for letting her father touch her, for letting him lay his filthy hands on her tender skin. I heard those prayers. I heard those sobs. And I waited.

The truth was, nothing could completely fill up that crater in your chest. But those two girls came pretty damn close. With their heads full of locks and their premature smiles. Their innocence charmed you but had often scared you - innocence was like a death sentence waiting to be fulfilled. At least, in the world you now lived in. You could practically sense my presence when you looked at them. Indeed, I was waiting close by. Their time was soon. When I look at a human, I can tell how soon our encounter will be by the light of their soul. And those girls were dwindling.

For the longest of time, there was merely worrisome on your part. Worrisome when Lizzie refused to use a knife. Worrisome when Mika confessed that she could never kill another living human, regardless of their intentions. The fear set in later, when Lizzie's behaviour began to worsen. Wouldn't kill a walker. In fact, she wouldn't even fear them. The twinge of panic in your chest when you saw her playing with one of them was like none you had ever felt before. When Sophia went missing, a part of you knew she was dead. And when Lizzie showed no sign of caution or aggression towards walkers, that same part of you began to flash a red light. I was closer than ever before.

Tyreese knew. But he didn't really know. Not like you did. He had been through his own hell but understanding the psyche of young girls just wasn't his area of expertise. Sure, he saw the danger but, more often than not, his mind was in other places. He couldn't change what was happening. You couldn't change what was happening. And you became convinced that God wasn't going to change it either. Mika and Lizzie would find themselves in my arms before either of them reached the age of thirteen. But you never imagined Mika would be the first to go.

"Don't worry, she'll come back. I didn't hurt her brain!"

Mika laid behind her sister, golden hair embedded into the overgrown blades of grass. Fresh blood splattered on the curve of her neck. So young. Too young. And Lizzie looked at you with that stupid, stupid smile, with her own sister's blood dripping from her finger tips. No words could escape you. There was barely enough air in your lungs to heave your chest up and down in the spastic motion that it did. What had she done? Before you could even collect yourself, you hand instinctively reached for the knife dangling from her hand. In that moment it was hard to tell what exactly it was you were feeling. Anger? Sorrow? Vengeful? Perhaps a dangerous mixture of the three? All you knew was that this was not how things were supposed to go. This was not how it was supposed to play out. You had been entertaining the thought of settling in that cozy farm house, with Tyreese and the girls. Raise another man's children and form some sort of family. But you should've known by now, things are never that good for too long.

In an instant, the knife was dropped and you found that this innocent little girl with blood stained hands had a gun pointed at your chest. Insisting that you wait. That her sister would turn and that you would see that, all along, she had been right. But so very wrong. It was then that you realized you couldn't defy her. Not now. You had to play along with her and her psychotic games if you didn't want to end up like Mika. So you agreed to her terms. You would wait. But only for so long.

Deciding to kill Lizzie was not an easy thing for you to do. How could you? She was like your daughter, sometimes you forgot you were not of the same blood. If only things were so easy that you could fix her. Why couldn't you just fix her? She was young and naïve, fresh cut from the stem of her mother. Those were the easiest flowers to manipulate. But Lizzie wasn't like other flowers. Not so easy to arrange neatly on your kitchen counter. She was the one to droop or bent the opposite way of the other flowers in the vase. Her existence posed nothing but threats. To Judith, to Tyreese, to you. What were you supposed to say to Rick when you reunited with him, without his baby? What were you supposed to tell him? You were certain you would find him again, along with the others. Regardless if you had been banished from the prison because of what you had done, Rick was your family. You couldn't let his baby girl die because you were trying to save your own. And that is why you had to kill Lizzie.

Tyreese seemed to support you in your decision, although his eyes held traces of hesitance and reluctance. You found that it didn't matter to you if Tyreese was uneasy about this. You knew what you had to do. Here you were again, repeating what you had done previously at the prison. Taking matters into your own hands and taking it upon yourself to take the life of one to save many. Even if Tyreese had offered to do it himself to spare you the heartache. You knew this had to be done, and it had to be you who did it.

"What is it?" Lizzie asked you as you led her away from the farm house. You couldn't bare to say anything just yet; every breath you took was painful. But words? You kept those reserved.

"Are you mad at me? Is that what you wanted to talk to me about?" she whined as if she didn't know. You were no psychologist but you knew her behaviour and actions were not that of a sane mind. In truth, the fact that it wasn't "her fault", was the only thing that had prevented you from shoving her to the ground with a surging rage and driving your knife into her skull. Mika was just as much your daughter as Lizzie was. And she did not deserve to die the way she did.

"I love you, Lizzie." And that was the truth. Despite your anger and frustration with the whole situation, that was one thing that still rang true. You had to say it, had to let her know it before you commenced your next action. You knew you had to do this, you knew the why and the how. You just didn't know where the strength was going to come from to commit the act.

"Please don't be mad at me, I'm sorry!" She was looking at the flowers now. A reflection of herself, it calmed her. Now was the time. If you didn't do it now, you knew you never would.

"Just look at the flowers, Lizzie," you told her as you unsheathed the small hand gun from it's concealment. Never before had the piece of metal felt so heavy in your hand. You wanted to damn everything as you aimed the gun at her head of blonde hair. Damn Lizzie for putting you in this position. Damn Mika for not being able to defend herself. Damn God for making you do this. But most of all, damn yourself for taking the life of a girl that did not know better.

I hovered behind you, arms crossed but ready. Lizzie was small but would be a heavy soul to carry. I didn't judge you for what you were doing. There was simply no other solution. If it's possible to fathom, I pitied you. I really did. But then again, I take the lives of the innocent every day. I watched you suck on the insides of you cheek as you put the bullet into the back of her skull.

Look at the flowers, Lizzie.

Her body jerked from the impact and fell forward.

Just look at the flowers.

The flowers around her feet became her death bed as she collapsed, face forward onto their clean skin.

Just look at the flowers.

Lizzie painted the yellow petals red, tarnishing them. No one would want those flowers now. They would never be picked and admired. Like Lizzie, their bloom was cut short and they became crushed under her weight.

I listened to you sob as I bent down and pulled Lizzie's soul from the wreck that laid before you. And I will tell you, she was not of a willing nature. You blamed yourself for this, so much so that turned the barrel of that gun to your own forehead did not seem like such a horrible idea. Although, one thing is for certain. With Lizzie still alive, your light was dim, almost beginning to fade. Now that you had ridden her from her life, you shone brighter than ever before.