I don't own the walking dead!

But I own my imagination

Person's thoughts

"Someone speaking"

Sorry this chapter is short.

Most of this story will be Carl's point of view

Enjoy!

Carl's P.O.V

I had no idea what they were going to do and obviously they didn't know either because we were sitting there for at least ten minutes. Nothing happened. Negan kept glancing between me and his men which made me feel uneasy. One of the men went up to Negan and told him what he should do. I overheard it but it made no sense to me. "Sir, what about Camp 30?" Negan's face seemed to light up with the idea making me feel worse than I did before.

Not even one minute had past when Negan started to walk back to the middle of the group. He had this evil dirty smirk on his face. I could see Daryl shift in his spot down at the other end of the line. Same with everyone else. I could tell they were trying to stay strong. I think the only thing giving some of them away was the red eyes and tears running down their cheeks. Negan stood there as if he was a little kid doing a "fun" dissection in science class, just observing. Then he stopped to stare at me for a couple seconds. I had just beat up one kind of two men and killed five. I was nervous about what was going to happen because I did it. But I'm not ready to die and a hella too young too! I kept running that through my head over and over again. Again and again. Negan finally began to talk. "Now. We gotta assess the shituation! Ha get it? Huh. Let's this fucking show on the road!... Get the kid." I knew this was coming but it still surprised me. My head shot up and my eyes went wide. My dad seemed more shocked than me but I don't know. Two men came up to grab me. I tried to get up and run but they were too quick. They have me in a strong hold dragging me over to the van. Surprisingly somehow I got free but all I seemed to remember was seeing the truck, a few seconds of black, and then I was facing away from the truck and the two men were on the ground. I could see my dad struggling to get up but there was a man holding him down. That's when I realized my entire group was trying to get up and save me. "Carl!" is yelled and I see that it was my dad. I begin to run to him and yes I know it sounds stupid but I just wanted to be with my dad right now. The two men that had been on the ground were back on their feet chasing me. I tripped. Great! I went falling into my dad's arms hugging him as hard as I could, holding onto him so they wouldn't take me. I don't care who sees me like this I just want to hug my dad. "Dad. Don't let them take you away from me again!" That was all I could say before they started dragging me back to the truck. "Dad!" I repeated and I was repeatedly answered with "Carl!". There was also everyone else yelling things that I didn't really hear because I was too focus on my dad. They actually had to pick my legs up too because I kept almost getting away. I just kept struggling and struggling. They got me into the truck with me still kicking and punching and yelling. I was in the back of the truck looking out the window when I saw my hat yards away on the ground. No! My hat! "No! Let me go!" I kept yelling even though it made no difference. They started the truck as I was banging on the back window. I saw my dad get free followed by Daryl despite his injury. They began to run after the truck but they just got smaller. I got this sinking feeling that I wasn't going to see tem ever again or at least for a while and all that was left of me there was my hat. My hat. My … my dad's hat.

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I'll post next chapter when I can.