Author's note Spoilers S4 EP4!!!: You know I just thought of something, how would this Clementine react to AJ saying "he liked killing Lilly back on that boat"? BTW, hey this is the sequel to "At All Cost" so if you're confused on what's even happening I suggest that you read the first to help you get the gist of it.
Music played in the background while she cleaned the dishes after just eating her freshly cooked meal. She had gotten the old record player out of a run-down store in a mall. Strangely enough, it was perfectly fine. No dents, fine condition other than being completely covered in dust.
The song, or more specifically, one of her favorite songs, "Breaking The Girl" was playing at the moment. She's always loved music like that even before the world ended, she was always fond of that type of music. Those southern, country genres. It was always so relaxing to her. She found a couple of CDs, albums from numerous artists and decided to bring them back to her house. The cabin.
It was late in the afternoon, an orange beam of light that shined through the curtains of the kitchen. It was a perfect day! Everything had been going fine in her life or at least, so far. Nothing bad had happened, so she took that as a good sign.
If that wasn't good enough, the thirteen-year-old came had come across a gun store further out from where she usually ventures out. It took a few days to actually come across the town. She has gotten used to sleeping outside, mainly because of Sarah but she learnt how to set up a small barrier around her campsites.
Speaking of Sarah, others came around too but Sarah was always with her. The next day she came back to the cabin with her, Clementine decided that she wanted to clean her up a bit. She was tired of seeing that bloody outfit on her friend.
Her area was running low on supplies, almost every store had been either looted by her or had been looted by someone else before her.
The gun store had a few goodies for her that she was ecstatic about! She had filled her bag with all sorts of great stuff. A couple of handguns, magazines, some bowie knives. By the time she was done emptying the store, she was quick to discover that her bag was way too heavy for her to carry prompting her to throw a small tantrum.
Regardless of that though, there was no way in hell she was going to leave all that divine treasure for the next person to come along and steal them!
Her eyes landed upon a possessive sight that took her breath away, a shotgun set up on display over on the right side of the store. She ignored everything she was holding and walked over to the piece of art. The gun was mounted on the wall, she examined the label that said "Model 37" with the price tag "900$".
She admired the wooden material on the piece, it's long metal barrel, the grip. It was a perfect weapon. She decided to pick it up, some time had passed since she tried picking up a gun that wasn't a puny pistol. Over the course of two years, she had built up some strength. The shotgun was heavy but she could still carry it. Needless to say...
the trip back was extremely tormenting.
Carrying a large sack of bricks on her back and one shotgun to carry. When she finally made it back to her home, the bag she was carrying had left indentations on her back.
Five months had passed which was practically years in this world, she got used to the kick of the Ithaca and she brought it everywhere she went. She loved that weapon, especially when it blew walkers apart.
The loud blast of the gun was something she cared very little about. She probably didn't care at all. Sometimes more walkers would come, sometimes they wouldn't. She would get extremely agitated if they kept coming, she always did. Blowing them apart was fun but it would get boring after a while of doing it... just everything else.
The more walkers that came for her, the more angrier she would get until she would black out and just use her daggers to take them out. Yeah, she understood walkers were attracted to sound but come on! Endless waves of walkers she needed to deal with? That never stopped at all? Anyone would get annoyed if they just kept coming!
It was night at the moment, the teen was resting on the couch relaxing to the sounds of music playing quietly in the background. She wanted some alone time and she politely asked Sarah if she could be left alone for a while.
Clementine had boarded up the windows of the living room. She can't relax when all she sees outside is nothing but pitch black. It was a slightly risky decision but she took it anyway. Christmas carols playing in the background while she aimlessly stared at the dark roof above her.
The house was lit by candle, she didn't know how to create electricity that was something she wasn't going to bother dealing with. The record player she had was merely powered by batteries.
As she layed on the couch, she quickly became absorbed into her thoughts. Her old group, she would mainly think about them most of the time. Carlos, Sarah, Luke, Sarita... Kenny. It had been two years since she lost her group, two years of being on her own.
She'd sometimes forget just how long she's been out there for. Alone. When all you're doing is surviving, it was kind of hard to not lose track of time. Considering all she did on a daily basis was go out look for supplies, kill a few animals for food then come back home and rest.
Rarely anything happened out there, she would sometimes find herself considering going back to Howe's just to see how Jane was doing. She hadn't seen her since that day she first saw her again. She didn't care if the woman didn't trust her or not, she needed something else to do. Anything, really! Better than doing the same thing every damn day!
She needed something, someone to interact with. Not imaginary friends that were dead! She enjoyed talking with them but again, like with everything else, that got boring after a while. She knew they weren't the real thing which only made it worse. To know that the conversations she was having weren't really happening, it was just her losing her mind.
She was through with this, tired of being miserable because that was what she was. She was miserable, doing the same thing every day. It was, at first, great! Fun too but after awhile it became boring. There was no purpose there, Clementine didn't consider surviving a purpose because then there was no point in staying alive; if all you're doing is surviving then what's the point of living? What are you surviving for if that's all you're doing? Survivingfor what? To see another day? To do same thing over and over again?
This domestic life was killing her from the inside out...
The teen sat on the rock, waiting for the fishing line to tug. She remembered when she first came to the river with Pete and Nick... and ending very badly.
She decided to wear a simple black t-shirt with some black cargo shorts, it was nearing summer and the temp was already pretty warm.
As it always did, the ithaca was layed out in front of her. Ready if any dangers presented itself.
After she caught a couple of small fish, she decided to head back to the cabin. Once she came into view, she caught a glimpse of the front door closing. Clementine was already on full alert, the door was supposed to be locked shut. Not opening and closing whenever it pleased.
She dropped her fish and quietly moved around the cabin, her ithaca lowered. She didn't need to worry about avoiding windows, she already took care of that. The teen made her way to the back door, placing her ear against it and began listening to whoever or whatever was in her house.