I don't think I'll ever get used to college life. Hell, technically, it's not really 'college life' if I'm not even living on campus. After all, UGA is thankfully a thirty-minute drive from my home. Thank god Mom is willing to let me stay home as I go through this whole ordeal. In return, I clean the house, cook most of our meals, and even handle our groceries. Which reminds me, I better run by Save-Lots after history and skip lunch for today. I don't want Mom to complain about running out of coffee again.

"The triumph of Union forces in 1865 finally ended the dispute over the relative merits of national authority by and states' rights," I'm interrupted from my thoughts thanks to my professor's lecture, guess I better start paying attention. "The nation emerged from the Civil War more powerful and secure than at any time in its history."

You know, I thought it was pretty cool that Professor Everett had the same last name as me. He's a very well-respected person here at UGA and is rightfully recognized by us students as well. Plus, the man can sure as hell rock that beard.

"And that concludes today's lesson. I expect you all to be thoroughly prepared for your exam next week."

Everyone starts packing their things and starts leaving the classroom. I pack my things and pull my Walkman from my bag. I know it's old school, but I just love technology that's come before my time.

"Elijah, I'd like a word with you before you go."

I look back, seeing Professor Everett packing his suitcase and adjusting his tie. "Is something wrong, sir?"

"No, not at all," he reassures with a warm smile. "I just wanted to tell you that I'm impressed with your progress here. Not many freshmen have been able to keep up with my class as well as you have."

"Oh...really? Thank you, sir."

"Have you ever considered becoming a teacher yourself?"

"Well, I used to. Don't get me wrong, but I don't think I'm best suited to be a teacher." Plus, I think they are way better people to be taught by than me.

"I see. What is your major again?"

"Photography, sir. I'm hoping I can get a Bachelors Degree in Fine Arts. Oh! Check this out." I reach for my bag and pull out the camera I've had ever since I was little. "This is a vintage Polaroid Retrospekt camera. I use is to capture moments and immediately display them or take them home as keepsakes. This instant physical connection adds a layer of intimacy to the photography experience and..." I realized that I might have gone on for too long. "Sorry, sir."

He shakes his head. "It's no trouble. I can see that you're very passionate about this path. And I wish you all the luck." Professor Everett extends his hand out to me, I take it in return with a firm grip.

"Thank you, sir."

"Of course. But think about that teaching idea when you get a chance. I think you'd make an excellent teacher."

"If you say so," I simply shrug before I turn around and start to leave. "You have a real good day now, Professor."

I honestly don't know why they call it 'Save-Lots' if the prices are ridiculous. I mean, come on! Why do coffee and milk have to be so expensive?! Oh well, at least Mom will be happy when she gets home. At least the drive was quiet, it's what I like most about my neighborhood. I hop out of my car and head to the trunk. When I open it, my ears are met with a familiar voice calling my name.

"Hey, Elijah!"

That familiar voice belonged to none other than my childhood best friend, Sandra. Looks like she's babysitting my neighbor's kid Clementine again, she follows behind Sandra and barely looks at me. I guess she's still a little shy around me. I've been her neighbor since she and her folk came into this neighborhood when I was only ten. She's...eight now if I remember correctly. She is still wearing that baseball cap whenever her dad isn't.

I offer a smile. "I see that you're babysitting again." I kneel down so I'm now at eye-level with Clementine. "How've you been, kiddo?" She doesn't say anything back to me, but she at least makes eye contact, that must be an improvement after all these years.

"Guess that means she likes me more," Sandra says with that smug look on her face.

"Whatever," I shrug as I stand back up straight. "Where did her folks go this time?"

"They decided to go to Savannah."

"Again?" I ask.

Sandra shrugs. "Anywhere's better than here."

"It ain't so bad, Sandy," I hear Clementine giggle after I use that nickname, this causes Sandra to punch me in the arm.

"You know I hate it when you use that."

"First of all, ow," I rub my arm a little. "Second, that's not what you told me when we were kids."

Sandy burrows her eyebrows in anger and whispers. "But I don't like it whenever other people hear it!" She says that as she gestured her head down to Clementine.

"What did you say?" She asked.

"N-Nothing!" I laughed a little at her flustered expression, but this only made her look more angry at me. "You're so immature, you know that?"

"Yet I'm still older than you." I retort.

"Meaning?"

"...Good point."

Sandy facepalms. "I swear, sometimes you're just...hmph!" She could barely keep up this annoyed facade and started laughing, making not only me but Clementine laugh as well.

Man, I really miss this. Maybe I should invite her over whenever I get free time from college.

"Anyways, we should get out of your hair," Sandy says before giving me a warm hug, I offer the same amount of warmth as she does. "I'll see you around, okay?"

"Sure thing, Sandy," I whisper that last part in her ear, making her shove me away.

"I really hate you sometimes."

"I know. See you around."

Sandy nods. "See you, Elijah."

"G-Goodbye," Clementine says while trying to smile at me. I offer a wave as they make their way back to their house.

"Well," I say aloud before returning to the nine bags of groceries that lay in the trunk of my car. "These things aren't gonna just walk into the house themselves."

I hear the clicking of the door. What the heck? Mom's already home? My unspoken question is answered when I see her walk inside, brandishing the navy blue scrubs she wears to work. That and her black beanie with an embroidered blue and white butterfly on the left side of it.

"You're home early," I point out.

"Had a little accident with a patient, sweetie." Mom greets me with a warm and gentle voice like always.

I stand up from the couch after what she said, growing more concerned when I see the bandage wrapped around her arm. "What happened? Are you okay?"

Mom smiled at me, trying to put my mind at ease. "Don't worry, it was just a little scratch. Some poor soul came in really sick and decided to take it out on me when I tried to help him sit up."

"Still," I hug her. "how about you take it easy for the rest of the night? Let me worry about dinner, I already grabbed groceries for the week anyway."

"Thank you, Sweetie," Mom leans up and kisses my cheek, making me feel better. "Christ alive, you're getting taller every time I see you."

I chuckle as I pull down on her beanie, covering her eyes while she lets out an annoyed sigh. "Love you, Mom."

Mom adjusts her beanie so that she can see again and looks back up at me. "Love you too, Sweetie."

I leave Mom to make herself comfortable in the living room. When I open the fridge, I can already hear the intro to N.C.I.S. Playing on our TV. That show has never failed to entertain us and will continue to do so for a long time. I look back inside the fridge, wondering what I could make for dinner tonight with all the new groceries we have.

"Let's see," I mumble to myself. "Bologna, Cheese, Eggs... I got it."

I grab the package of Bologna and sliced cheese, and the carton of eggs. After setting them on the counter next to the stove, I squat down and grab a small pan.

"How do you feel about fried egg and bologna sandwiches?" I call out to Mom.

"That sounds good to me!" She said back in a happy tone.

After a good fifteen minutes of cooking, dinner is finally done. I've made four sandwiches in total, two with cheese and I grabbed a bottle of Tabasco sauce for Mom. I don't enjoy it as much as she does but I swear, the woman practically drinks the stuff straight from the bottle. I set two sandwiches on a plate and carry them over to my Mom.

"Here you are, Your Grace," I say in a pompous tone, making Mom giggle and return my act with one of her own.

"Why, thank you, noble squire." Squire? Last time I checked, I believed to be a Noble Prince. I hand her the bottle of Tabasco sauce, making her eyes widen with excitement. "Now that's more like it, Prince Elijah."

I grin with pride now that my title has been restored. With pleasantries out of the way, I take my own plate of sandwiches and sit down on the couch.

"So, who's the victim this time?" I ask after taking a bite of my food.

"A marine failed his jump, but it may have been on purpose."

"Ah, back in the first season, I see."

I've seen so much of this show I just need to know which victim they're investigating and I know exactly who and why they did it. I'll say this, no matter how many times I watch this show, Abby Sciuto will always be one of my favorite characters. There's just something about a woman that not only looks like a badass, but they're also one of the smartest too. Sure, the whole goth look is not exactly appealing to most, but it is to me.

"How was class today?" Mom strikes up a conversation as soon as Abby confirms the victim had Percoset and Vicodin in his system before he jumped.

"It was alright, gotta exam for my history class next week, though."

"I'm sure you'll do great, sweetie. You didn't get that many scholarships for being a dummy, after all."

She's not wrong, I was considered a 'genius' back in high school. Well, I live in Georgia so that didn't really speak for much, but I still had more opportunities than most.

"I know. Still, can't help but feel overwhelmed by it all."

Mom chuckles. "You sound just like me at your age."

That remark makes me giggle. "I love you, Mom."

She smiles when I say that. "I love you too, sweetie."

An idea pops into my head, making me smile even more. I pop up from my side of the couch and go to grab my school bag, intending to find my camera. Once I find it, I go back and sit right beside Mom. She looks at me with a confused expression.

"What are you...oh," Mom connects the dots in her head when she eyes my camera. I make sure the flash is turned off so we won't have red eyes in the picture. "Make sure you get my good side."

I laugh. "Yes, ma'am." I turn my camera around and wrap my right arm around my Mother's shoulder, she returns my gesture and smiles at the camera. I press the black button and the camera makes a small clicking noise. A few seconds later, the small photo slips out, I take it in my hands and smile at my handiwork. "Perfect."

"'Perfect'?" Mom retorted. "Sweetie, we're far from perfect."

"Well, sometimes the small and seemingly unimportant things are the most perfect of all."

Mom smiles when I say this. "I guess that's a good way of looking at things. Who are you and what did you do with my son? When did you get this mature?"

I shrug. "I guess when..." Mom looked at me, knowing full well what I was about to say. "Sorry, Mom."

"No, no," She shakes her head. "It's okay, Perhaps you're right about that. I just..." What mom does next surprises me, she holds me tight and rests her head on my shoulder. "I just don't want you to turn out like him."

"..." I hug her back, wanting to do my best to reassure her of that possibility. "I promise."

"Thank you, sweetie."

The rest of yesterday went pretty well. Mom calmed down after I comforted her, had the rest of our dinner, and got a head start on my assignments for my photography class. Our assignment was to take a picture that resembles the embodiment of humanity. I know I just wanted to take a picture with my Mom, but this still fits perfectly with that goal. All I gotta do is explain how. I finish packing my things and head outside my home, only to realize that Mom's car was still parked in the driveway.

"Huh? Doesn't she have work today?" I head straight back inside and make my way through the house, eventually to my Mom's bedroom. I knock a couple of times, asking if she's still here. I'm answered by a groggy moan, making me open the door. I see mom curled up in bed, making me worry. "Mom? Are you alright?"

She looks up at me, and that's when I realize that she's fully clothed, even wearing her signature beanie. "I'm okay, sweetie. Just..." Mom lets out a few coughs. "a little sick is all. I was feeling fine when I woke up but not as much when I started getting ready for work."

"Is it the Flu? A cold? Maybe I should stay-"

"It's okay, sweetie," She cuts me off. "Go to your classes, I'll be alright if I just rest for today. I already called in."

She doesn't sound okay, her voice just sounds so raspy and ragged. But...if Mom says she'll be alright, she'll be alright. She's been a doctor my whole life, after all. I smile as I rub her head. "Okay, Mom. As soon as I'm done with class, I'm coming straight back here to take care of you."

She nods. "Thank you, sweetie. Go on, you don't want to be tardy."

With those last words, I leave her bedroom. Once I'm back outside, I'm met with the same old cool morning air of Georgia, making me smile to myself. I make my way to my car. Sure, it may be a rental, but at least it gets me to my classes and helps me when I need to make grocery runs. I was so excited when Mom showed me this car, a little guilty too but she said it was worth it to see me use it to drive to UGA. At least the radio works, I wouldn't really know what to do if I didn't have music while I drove.

It was a peaceful drive, so I guess today might be a good one. I've always told myself that if it's a good drive to where you're going, then the rest of your day would be just as much. I expect today to go by in a flash knowing that I only have my Photography class and History. That's the benefit of staying ahead in your classes, you don't have to attend some of them every day. Photography was as simple as ever, although not a lot of people were impressed with the photo of me and my mother I represented. Guess not everyone can see what I see. Luckily, my teacher did.

Now I just gotta get through Professor Everett's class, I wonder what we'll be going over today. In all honesty, I love history and all, but I get tired of Civil War lessons at times. I just wanna skip ahead to the World War Two era, now that's an area I'm an expert in. I arrive at my Professor's classroom, raising an eyebrow in confusion when I see that it's completely empty. Mr. Everett isn't even here.

"What the hell?" My voice echoes throughout the empty classroom. I take a step backward, accidentally bumping my elbow against the doorway.

"Hey, you alright?" An older-sounding voice asks me, must be another professor that I don't have. He looks nothing like a student.

"Yeah, I'm alright," I reassure. "Is Mr. Everett not in today or something?"

"Oh, you didn't hear?" I shake my head. "He called in sick earlier and canceled his class for today as well."

I tilt my head. "Is he alright?"

The man shrugged. "I'm afraid I don't know all the details myself."

"I see, thanks anyway."

With my second and last class for the day canceled out of nowhere, I decided to make my way to my car. Along the way, I hear the faint sound of a police siren, making me silently pray for whoever that officer has to deal with today. I make it to my car and begin my peaceful drive home. At least now I have more time to take care of Mom. I wonder what's wrong. I take a deep breath as I loosen my grip on the steering wheel.

"Easy, Elijah, don't let your worries get the best of you. She gotta little sick is all."

I internally curse at myself, more so at my nerves. I hate that I've always been like this. Whenever Mom gets sick or even just a little injury, I always freak out. At least I'm not as bad as when I was little, I was what people would call...a 'Momma's Boy'. If being one meant that I care deeply about my mom and her health, then to hell with the people who think it's an insult.

After a while, I finally arrived home. When I stepped out of my car, I couldn't help but notice that the neighborhood was...quiet, more so than usual. Did I miss a memo or something? Aside from being friendly with Clementine and her parents, my Mom and I are not the most social of neighbors, but you would think they would keep us updated about when things happen. I decided to just leave it and head inside my home. When I opened the door, I noticed how the TV was on but it was only playing white noise, I turned it off so it would stop annoying my ears.

"Mom, I'm home," I call out. After a minute or two of silence, I try to call out again. "One of my classes was canceled today so I came home to take care of you." Another moment of silence. "Mom?" I decided to just see if Mom was in her bedroom. This is getting a little ridiculous, what the heck is going on? I reach Mom's bedroom door and knock three times. "Mom? I'm home. Are you alright?"

I'm met with more silence. I put my ear up close to the door. I don't know if it's my nerves getting the best of me or if I'm just hearing things, but I swear I can hear what could only be...raspy moaning. Okay...this isn't normal... I gently open the door. Once I had it fully opened, I saw my Mom just standing by the edge of her bed and staring out the window. She hasn't even acknowledged my presence. In fact, she's barely even moving at all; she's just standing there like a statue.

"Mom? Are you...okay? You shouldn't be moving around when...you're..."

My Mom slowly turns around towards me, letting her shoulders slump over. When her eyes meet mine, she tilts her head at me... That's when I noticed something different about them. Instead of her normal ocean-blue eyes...they're pale and white. Mom takes a small step towards me, I don't know why, but I unconsciously step back into the hall.

"Mom...what's wrong?"

I take another step back...and so does my Mom. When she gets closer to the light, it allows me to see the bandage on her arm from yesterday is off. Wait...she told me it was a scratch, why does it look like...a bite?

"RAAAAAAHHH!"

Before I could make any assumptions or even process what was happening, Mom lunged toward me, her hands trying to go for my throat. I stepped back as quickly as I could, but I slipped and fell onto my back. I try to crawl away from her but she is already on top of me before I even reach the living room. "Mom! What the heck is wrong with you?! G-Get off of me!" My Mom only responded with more blood-curdling growls and more attempts to scratch me. I don't want to hurt her but she's leaving me in a rough position.

So I did what I had to. I shift my legs underneath her abdomen and push as hard as I can. This thankfully gets her off of me and I stand back up. Mom stumbles around and looks back up at me, staying in a crawling position. I raise my hands to try and show her that I'm not a threat.

"Mom, just...calm down. It's me, Elijah. I don't want to-"

"RAAAHHH!" Mom starts crawling towards me at an alarming speed. Out of fear rather than defense, I kicked her in the face. I didn't want to have to do that but she's scaring the hell out of me. When she looks back up at me, I see that I've broken her nose. This injury didn't stop her from trying to attack me once again so I kicked her in the face again. Okay...now I know that this definitely isn't normal because an injury like that would make any normal person stop in their tracks.

...But my Mom does not stop.

I'm once again grabbed by my Mom who has now pinned me against the wall. Now instead of trying to attack me with her hands, she's...trying to bite me on my neck. This attempt freaks me out even more, causing me to push my mom away. She stumbles back a couple of feet until she eventually trips and falls, hitting her head against the marble countertop corner of the kitchen. Even her beanie falls off of her head. When she hits the floor...she doesn't get back up. Instead, a small puddle of blood forms from her head injury, staining the kitchen flooring.

"...M-Mom?" My voice breaks. What did I just do? I run over to her, shaking her body as my eyes begin to sting with tears. "Mom! I'm...I'm sorry I didn't mean that! Please...please be okay!" No response comes from her. I take a closer look at her eyes. They seem so... lifeless now and they're milky white. Wait... Letting my curiosity get the better of me, I inspect her arm, getting a better look than I did before. My eyes widen when I see her actual injury.

"...That's a bite. And...not from an animal." Did a patient bite her? Wait, why am I even thinking about this right now?!

I look back at my Mom's face... Despite her broken nose, pale skin, and lifeless eyes, she still looks beautiful. That's when the reality of what I had done finally sets in. I pick up her beanie, seeing a small splatter of blood across the embroidered butterfly. My tears eventually fall down my face, staining my Mom's headwear as I bury my head in my hands.

"...I killed her..."

?

Elsewhere, there was a police cruiser heading down the highway, leaving Atlanta with a cuffed man in the backseat. The man looks down at his now-cuffed hands and silently sighs to himself. He knows what he did was wrong. In fact, he didn't even mean to do it, but there's no changing the past. The man looks up to the front seat, and the noticeably older officer driving adjusts his rearview mirror to look at the perpetrator in handcuffs. The officer seems a little unsure of the situation, seeing how much he's had to go through this sort of thing. Regardless, he tries striking up a conversation.

"Well, I reckon you didn't do it then."

The handcuffed man looks off to the side, sighing to himself. "You know what they say about reckoning."

"Ha, I don't. But I reckon it's a lot like assumin'."

"Yeah, something like that."

Seeing that he's got nothing else to do, the police officer continues on. "Y'know, I've driven a buncha fellas down to this prison. Lord knows how many. Usually is 'bout now I get the 'I didn't do it.'"

"...And what do you say?"

"I say, 'Yep, I know ya didn't.'"

The Police radio starts playing, announcing, "We've got what looks like a 10-91E near Peachtree Exit of 285. All cars asked to keep on the lookout for a 91V in the area."

The cuffed man looks at the radio, then to the officer who seems unphased by it. "Any of that seem important to you?"

"All of it, but that box never shuts up. Sit in this seat and pay too much attention and you'll drive yourself crazy." The man in the backseat shrugs it off like it's nothing before looking out the window, and seeing how few cars there are on the highway. He looks back into the rearview mirror, meeting the officer's gaze. "I followed your case a bit, you being a Macon boy and all."

"...You're from Macon then."

"Yep," The Officer smiled. "Came up to Atlanta to be a city cop in the seventies. Always wanted to work a Murder case, like that senatorial mess you git yourself mixed into, with all due respect. A real shame that is." The prisoner looks out the window at the sound of a police siren, he sees it speed down in the opposite direction with its sirens on. "Hell, the whole family used to be regulars at your folks' drugstore right in downtown," The officer glances back. "Still there?"

"Sure is." He smiles

"Good."

"Be advised," The radio kicks on again. "medical personnel on route to Hartsfield, various 10's and 20's coming in."

The officer ignores it once again and looks in the rearview mirror. "I got a nephew up at UGA, you teach there long?"

"Going on my sixth year."

"You meet your wife in Athens?" The man looks down in sadness before looking out the window. "You wanna know how I see it?" Several more police cars pass by with their sirens on along with a SWAT truck, all of them driving in the opposite direction.

"...I got much choice?"

"Sure don't," The policeman opens his mouth, about to speak, but notices the man glaring at him and stays silent for a few moments. Finding the right words, he speaks. "Regardless, could be you just married the wrong woman."

This slightly angers the man in the backseat, he opens his mouth to speak but decides not to. Instead, he just grunts dismissively. The police radio plays static, this makes the man look at it in slight concern.

"Riot in progress. All officers available for incoming 217's. Rolling calls and dispatches to all locations."

"You'll have to learn to stop worrying about things you can't control." So the officer says, but that doesn't exactly help when the cuffed man hears and sees a helicopter, two SWAT trucks, and several police cars pass by, all of them going in the opposite direction. "I'm driving this man once, he was the worst one. He wouldn't stop going on about how he didn't do it. He was an older fella. Big, soft eyes, behind a pair of smart folk glasses, and he's just wailing back there, says it wasn't him. Crying and snotting all over right where you're sitting."

"All officers are available for incoming 21-"

The officer, now more annoyed, just turns off the radio. He continues with his previous encounter with a troublesome prisoner. "Then before long he starts kicking the back of the seat, li-like a fussy baby on an airplane. And I tell him he's gotta stop, that's government property, and I'll be forced to zap him otherwise. So he stops, and having exhausted all his options, he starts crying out for his Mama. 'Mama, it's all a big mistake! It wasn't me!'"

"...So, did he do it?" The man in the back seemed intrigued by this.

"They caught the fucker red-handed! Stabbin' his wife, cutting her up as the boys came through the door! HE sits in my car screaming blood murder that it wasn't him, I think he actually believed it himself," The Officer sighs. "It goes to show, people will up and go mad when they believe their life is over. Oh, I got another good one for ya," The policeman turns as he talks, looking away from the road. "This one's a little bit less depressing and a bit more hilarious if I do say so."

As he went on, the man couldn't help but see something rise from the road up ahead. It walks right into the middle of the road, right in the way of the police car. What made it more concerning to the prisoner, is that what walked into the road...looks like a man.

"WATCH OUT!"

"This other time-" The car crashes into the person on the road, splattering blood all over the windshield. The car veers out of control, through the guard rail, and off the edge of a steep hill. The officer remained in his seat as his arms flailed around and the handcuffed man was forced to be knocked around as the car came to an unfortunate end. Eventually, he hits his head and falls unconscious in the backseat of the police car.

Elijah

CRASH!

A loud crashing noise from outside of my house causes me to look away from my Mother's bleeding corpse. "Huh? What the hell was that?" I finally find some strength in my legs and get to my house phone, calling 911 with record timing speed. "Come on...come on!" The phone dials for a good thirty seconds before I hear an automated voice.

"We're sorry, all lines are busy at this time. Stay on the line and we will be with you as soon as possible."

What the fuck? How could it... Angered, I throw the phone across the kitchen. The impact leaves a dent in one of the cupboards. How are all the lines busy?! I look down at my left hand, seeing my Mom's favorite beanie. Tears instantly form in my eyes at the reminder of what I had done to her not only minutes ago.

"...I'm so sorry, Mom."

"AAAHHH!"

A girl screaming brings me out of my sad state, causing me to worry. More at the fact that I recognize that voice. No...not Sandy too. Instinctively, I put on my Mom's beanie and stormed outside of my house. I run across the street to Clementine's house, ignoring any other sounds and sights I may have seen or heard. I pound on the front door.

"Sandy! Open up! What's going on in there?!"

I put my ear up to the door. I hear more screaming on the other side, along with what I think are...sounds of a struggle. I back away from the door, intending to kick it down. After a few attempts, I managed to break the door off of its hinges. When I'm inside, I see...a man pinning Sandy to the floor. She looks over at me with tears in her eyes.

"Elijah! Help me!"

"..." I feel something snap inside of me... Flashes of my Mom attacking me start playing in my head, feeling my rage. I already lost my Mom...I'll be damned if I lose Sandy too! "AAAHHH!"

I run over to them, gritting my teeth in anger. I reel back my right foot and kick the man right off of Sandy, he stumbles over and Sandy gets to her feet and holds onto me. I rest my hand behind her head, it feels just as soft as I remember. No! We're still in danger. If what's happening here is anything like my Mom, then I need to make sure that this guy can't get back up.

"...Get behind me,"

I force Sandy to step behind me. I look around Clementine's living room, seeing if I can find something to use as a weapon. All I see that could be used is just a lamp, so I grab it from the coffee table and remove the lampshade. I plan on using the heavy end to put the man down since I don't want to use the glass on the lamp to get more potential blood in me.

"...E-Elijah?"

I doubt Sandy will understand what I'm about to do, but I need to protect her and Clementine from...whatever the hell is going on. Wait a minute... Where is Clementine? Okay, deal with the man first, find Clementine second. I hold the lamp over my shoulder as the man slowly gets back on his feet. He sees me and lets out a gurgling growl, blood spilling from his mouth.

"AAAHHH!"

I ran to the man and hit him in the forehead with the lamp. This makes him fall onto his back and onto the kitchen floor. But I don't stop. I pin him down to the floor with my foot and I swing the lamp, making contact with his head again. And again... And again... And Again...

So much blood... I don't know how long I spent bashing this man's head in, seconds, minutes, hours, but I don't care. I'm making sure he doesn't get back up to hurt anyone else. I drop the lamp from my hand, it makes a loud clanging noise when it hits the floor. I look back at Sandy, who hasn't moved an inch. She looks at me with horror in her eyes at what I did.

"...W-What did you just-"

"He was sick, Sandy," I cut her off. "He wasn't going to stop and I made sure he wouldn't get back up."

"'Sick'? What do you mean? How do you..." Sandy squints her eyes at me, eyeing my head. Or what I can guess, what I'm wearing on it. "...That's..." Sandy lightly gasps. "...Elijah, where's your Mom?"

"..." I clench my fists at the reminder. "She's..."

Sandy, reading my expression, covers her mouth in shock. She had always loved my Mom and even went as far as considering her family, so the thought of her being... "No...she can't be."

I nod my head, allowing the tears to fall. Sandy takes this opportunity to run over to me and hold me tight, wrapping her arms around my shoulders and burying her face in my neck.

"I'm so sorry, Elijah."

"..." I allow myself to cry again, holding Sandy close to me as I let the tears fall down my face. We stand there for a few minutes, Sandy allows me to weep while she runs her hand up and down my back. I pull myself away, wiping my eyes with the sleeve of my long-sleeved shirt. "Are you okay? What about Clementine, where's she?"

"I'm okay, it didn't get me. Clementine's safe in her treehouse. I thought I heard someone screaming and I came to check, and..." Sandy looks over to the dead...thing on the kitchen floor. "Well, you saw what I ran into. If you hadn't... I would've..."

"Hey," I stop her before she can continue, turning her head towards me by her chin. "I'm here, you're safe now. I swear," I place my hands on her face, cupping her cheeks. "I'm not going anywhere."

Sandy looks up at me, her amber-colored eyes glistening with rising tears. "...Elijah."

"Come on," My hands fall to my side, yet my left hand takes her right. "Let's go."

"O-Okay."

With Sandy's hand in mine, I guide her to the backyard. I've been over here on many occasions, whether it be to help Sandy babysit, assist Diane and Ed with yardwork, or just have dinner with them. Once we're in the backyard, I look up to the eyesore of a treehouse.

"Clementine?" I call out. "You up there, kiddo?" No response comes from the treehouse. I turn to Sandy in slight worry.

"Clementine, It's okay! It's only Elijah!"

Shortly after Sandy's call, the wooden flap of Clementine's treehouse opens. She pops her head out and looks down at both of us. "Sandra? Elijah? Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, I just ran into some trouble and Elijah helped me."

"...Why is he covered in blood?"

Sandy and I look at each other. How much does Clementine know about what's going on? Should I...tell her what happened? "...We...ran into a monster in the house, Clementine. I had to get rid of it to save Sandy."

I feel her elbow me in my side at the use of her nickname but it does nothing for me. "Did you kill it?" Clementine asks.

"..." So she knows about...whatever the hell those things are. Sandy must've told her instead of just lying to her.

"Yes, he killed it, Clem," Sandy answers for me.

"Good," The little one smiles. "Come on, it's not safe down there."

Clementine comes further out of her treehouse and throws down the rope ladder for us so we can get up. I let Sandy go up first as I keep an eye out for anything else. Once she's up there, I follow after. Man, I forgot how small this treehouse is. At least we're out of reach of those...things.

"Are you sure you two are okay?" Clementines asks again.

Sandy nods. "Yes, Clementine, we're okay."

"But when you two came out, your face was red." Clementine points at Sandra's face. And I see it for myself, a faint red blush on her light-skinned cheeks. "You're not sick are you?"

"N-No! I'm fine, Clem!"

"..."

I decided not to ask and focused on our situation instead. I wish it wasn't so cramped in here. Okay, we're safe from more of those...things out there. What is even happening? Is this some sort of infection? That would explain what happened to Mom. I think back to my encounter with her. First...she was feeling sick this morning, then when I came home, I found...that thing. Then there was that bite mark I saw on her arm, a bite that definitely came from no animal, but a person. Could that be how this whole...thing is spread?

"...Sandy? Clementine?" They both look at me. "Were either of you two...bitten...by one of those things out there?"

Clementine shakes her head. "No, not me."

I look over to Sandy as she hugs her knees. "That man...almost did before you came along."

"Good, good..."

Thank God, but it's just a theory of mine, I can't know for sure if that's actually the case until we know more about our situation. I think our number one priority is to be able to defend ourselves just in case more of those...things come along. I remember how Mom kept a gun under her bed in case if anyone decided to break into our house. Which means...I'd have to go back out there.

"...Shit."

"Swear," Clementine pointed out.

"Sorry. I meant 'shoot." I correct myself.

"What's wrong, Elijah?"

"Well, we don't have anything to protect ourselves against those...things out there. Unless either of you two have anything?"

"I have a hammer."

"You do?" I tile my head a little when Clementine tells us that. She nods before pulling it out from a metal bucket in one of the corners of the treehouse.

"Where did you get that?" Sandy asked.

"Daddy always wanted to keep at least one tool up here just in case something needed fixing."

"Smart," I say. "But we'll need something with a little bit more range to take care of those things. So..." I look out on of the small windows of the treehouse, seeing that it's gotten more quiet.

"What are you thinking?" Sandy asks. I can hear the suspicion rising in her voice along with her concern. "Elijah?"

"...I'm going to make a run to my house and grab whatever I can. You two stay here while I-"

"No!" Sandy grabbed me by my shoulders, stopping me before I could even move an inch. "Estas loco?!" Woah, never thought I'd hear her Spanish again. She clears her throat before she speaks up again. "You wanna go back out when God knows how many of those things are out there?!"

"I get what you're saying, Sandy, but do you really think we can just sit here in this treehouse and wait for help?"

"..." Sandy, seeing my logic, releases her vice-like grip from my shoulders. "..No, but I still don't think it's a good idea. Just not right now, I mean."

"What do you mean?"

"...How about you wait until tomorrow? That gives...whatever's going on to at least get a little less chaotic, giving you less of a chance to be hurt."

"...I don't know, Sandy," I look off to the side. I get what she means, but I really think we should get some kind of protection. I feel so...exposed even just in this treehouse.

"I think it's a good idea," Clementine added, making us look over to her. "Plus, we'll all be together."

"..." Damn, looks like I'm outvoted here. "...Okay, but first thing tomorrow, I'm going back to my house and grabbing whatever I can. Deal?"

"Deal," Both girls say to me in unison.

I smile at them both. "Good," I take a glance outside, seeing that the sun is already setting. That's when I feel a yawn coming along from my lungs. It's been a long day, for all of us, especially these two. I can't imagine what Sandy has seen while I was gone, and I can't even begin to fathom what Clementine could be feeling right now. "...We should-"

I feel a sudden weight on my left shoulder before I can finish my words. Sandy has placed her head on my shoulder and wrapped her arms around my left one. Clementine notices this and decides to take shelter by my right, resting her little head against my arm. The poor girls must be exhausted with how easily they found comfort. ...Mom, wherever you are, I swear that I'll keep them safe. I lean my head back against the wooden walls of the treehouse, my Mother's headwear as a somewhat makeshift pillow, letting my eyes close to succumb to the inner realms of my subconscious.

...I'll keep you two safe...

...The Next Day...the aftermath of a car crash...

"...Ugh..." A man slowly wakes up, finding himself still in the back of a police car. He leans up, feeling a slight twinge of pain in his head. "Ow, shit." He looks down at his hands, seeing that he's still handcuffed. "Thirsty... Ahh!" The cuffed man looks down at his upper right leg, seeing a large bloody cut. "Fuck...my leg."

He tries to look around. Through the left window of the backseat, the man is met with the sight of the very officer who was driving him to prison...lying lifeless on the ground of the woods with a trail of blood leading to him.

"Hey! Hey, officer! Are you alright?! I'm still cuffed back here!" No response comes from him. "Officer! He doesn't look so good...he wasn't ejected from the car. He's not moving." He must have the handcuff keys on him.

Knowing that he can't just sit here, the man turns himself to the other passenger window. Using his good leg, he grunts as he continuously kicks it until it falls out of the car. He drags himself to the window and climbs out, landing painfully on the ground. He stands, leaning himself on the edge of the car as he makes his way to the area where the officer is. He limps over to the officer's body, but he notices a shotgun lying in the area along with his body.

Why the hell did he have his gun out? Maybe it was tossed from the car during the wreck?

The man leaves the gun where it is, knowing that it would be easier to carry when the handcuffs are off of him. Now towering over the officer's corpse, he sees how much it's already starting to decay. "Goddamn..." He leans down and grabs the keys hanging from his belt. He tries to unlock his handcuffs but he accidentally drops them. "Shit."

The keys landed by the officer's head, right next to his mouth. The man leans down once again, but he hesitates before he swiftly takes the keys back. Now with a firm grip on the keys, he unclocks his handcuffs and they fall to the ground. The man rubs his wrists...then he hears a faint groan coming from the officer. He looks down, then he sees the policeman's right hand twitch.

"...Uh, Officer?"

"RAAAH!"

The officer growls and tries to grab the man, making him fall backward. He crawls away in a panic. "What...ah, ah! Holy shit!" The man continues to crawl back until his back is met with the wrecked police car. The officer slowly crawls towards him, letting out gurgling growls as he gets closer. "Get away from me! What the hell are you?!"

Remembering the shotgun on the ground, the man picks it up along with the shell that was beside it. He tries to load the ammo but it slips from his fingers due to him being in a panic.

"Shit!" He swiftly picks the shell back from the ground and properly loads the weapon with the ammo. He points his gun at the officer. "Don't make me do this!"

But the officer does not stop...

Leaving the man no choice, he shoots him in the head. The officer's skull is blown apart by the shotgun's blast. It tries to crawl towards the man before it falls to the ground lifelessly. Blood pours from the skull and the man throws the shotgun to the ground.

"...His skin's all rotten...and he smells like shit. What the hell is this?" He looks up from the officer's now dead corpse. He sees what only could be...two girls? She stands alone at the top of a hill on the other side of the woods. The man calls out to her. "Help! Go get someone! There's...been a shooting!"

The girls run away, leaving the man alone once again. At least...that's what it seemed. Groaning comes from the forest, the man looks to his left...seeing more of those monsters coming to the sound of the shotgun. Not wanting to be around her much longer, the man rises to his feet and limps away as fast as he can away from the growing number of monsters coming from deep within the woods. They all acted just like the officer was, groaning loudly as they hobbled around with the intent to kill whatever came in their path.

And this man was in the middle of theirs...

He makes his way up the hill, nearly tripping over himself as more of those things come from the woods. Coming upon a wooden fence, the man climbs over it, landing on his back. He crawls back as the monsters that had been following him begin to pound on the fence. His back is met with a thud when he crawls back into a nearby porch.

BANG! BANG!

The sound of distant gunfire gains the attention of the man...along with the monsters that have been chasing him. The pounding on the wooden fence dies down as those things leave toward the sound of those guns. The man gets up and looks around, noticing that he's in the backyard of a house in a small neighborhood.

"Hello? Anybody?"

He looks around once again, seeing a treehouse. He looks up at the small structure, remembering that he saw those two girls. I thought I saw two girls back in the woods... Maybe they're up there? Not that the man could with how his leg is injured.

"Anybody up there? Don't worry, I'm not one of those things," No response comes from the wooden house tree. "...I guess it's empty." The man shrugs it off. Before he walks away, he sees a small plastic tea set at the foot of the tree. I'd fill one of those tea cups with some bourbon if I could.

The man drops that thought and makes his way onto the wooden porch and to the sliding glass door. He knocks a few times and calls out, "Hello? Anybody home? I need a little help." No response comes from the house, so the man opens the unlocked door. "Comin' in. Don't shoot, okay?"

He enters the house, closing the door behind him, then grabs his leg when he feels it twinge in pain. "Ahh, shit..." He stands, feeling the pain subside for now. "Hello? I'm not an intruder...or one of them." After he calls into the house again, that's when he sees what truly lies within the house. The furniture of the living room had been knocked over and there were bloodstains all over the floor...belonging to a man's corpse on the kitchen floor. "...These people might need more help than I do."

He first walks towards the kitchen where the man's body lies. He looks down, seeing that his head has been smashed in.

"Jesus..."

The man tries to carefully step over the bloody corpse, only for his foot to accidentally slip on the blood. He falls to the floor and his clothes are now stained with blood. As quickly as he wanted, he got back to his feet and went to search in the kitchen. Inside, he searches through the cupboards, finding only dishes and opened food packages. Anything worthwhile was already gone. He opens a drawer, finding... A walkie-talkie? He takes it and puts it in his back pocket.

BEEP!

A beeping noise comes from the living room, making the man look back in confusion. He walks back into the living room, carefully stepping over the bloody corpse. The source of the previous beeping came from an answering machine on a small coffee table. He presses a small red button and an automated voice comes from the machine.

"Three new messages. Message one. Left at 5:43 PM."

Directly after the machine's voice, it's replaced by a woman's. "Hey, Sandra, this is Diana. We're still in Savannah. Ed had a little 'incident' with some crazy guy near the hotel, so we had to get him back to the ER and have it checked out. Anyway, he's not feeling well enough to drive back tonight, so we're staying an extra day. Thanks so much for looking after Clementine, and I promise we'll be back in time before your spring break! If it's a hindrance you can always have Elijah help you if he's not too wracked with college."

Elijah? Does she mean my... Nah, probably just a coincidental name.

"Message two. Left at 11:19 PM."

"Oh, my God, finally!" The woman's voice comes from the machine once more, her voice more panicked with a hint of desperation. "I don't know if you tried to reach us; all the calls are getting dropped. They aren't letting us leave and aren't telling us anything about Atlanta. Please, please, just leave the city with Elijah and Ashley and take Clementine with you back to Marietta. I've got to get back to the hospital. Please let me know that you're all safe!"

"Message three. Left at 6:51 AM."

"Cementine? Baby," The woman's voice comes back, now more tearfully. "if you can hear this, call the police. That's 9-1-1. We love you...we love you...we love y-" The answering machine beeps one last time, cutting off the woman's saddened voice. Beside the answering machine lays a family picture. The man picks it up and examines it, seeing a mother, father, and their daughter sitting together and smiling He assumes that was the mother he heard on the answering machine...trying to say one last goodbye to her daughter.

Damn...

"Daddy?"

A voice comes from the man's pocket. More specifically, the voice is coming from the walkie-talkie he grabbed from the kitchen. He grabs it and walks over to the glass door, thinking that whoever is talking through the radio must be able to see him.

"Hello?" He holds up the radio to his head.

"You need to be quiet." The voice is much clearer now, and it sounds like a little girl.

He turns around, figuring out what he should say. "...I'm not a monster."

"Good."

"What's your name?"

"I'm Clementine. This is my house."

"Hi, Clementine. I'm Lee." The man reveals his name to the young girl. "How old are you?"

"Eight," She answered.

"And you're all alone?"

"No. I'm with my babysitter, Sandra, and her friend."

"Hello," Another girl's voice comes over the radio.

"But we don't know where anybody is. How old are you?" Clementine asked.

"I'm, uhh...thirty-seven."

"Okay."

"Where are your parents, Clementine?" Lee asks as he makes his way back to the kitchen, carefully stepping over the dead body and avoiding slipping in the blood again.

"They took a trip and left me with Sandra. They're in Savannah, I think. Where the boats are."

"Are you two safe?"

"We're outside in my treehouse. They can't get in."

Lee looks out through the kitchen window to see said treehouse. "That's smart."

"See?" Clementine opens the door to her treehouse and peeks her head out. "Can you see me? I can see you through the window." Clementine waves at Lee, and another girl pokes her head out to see Lee in the kitchen, she offers a small wave as well and he waves back.

CLICK!

Lee freezes in place at the sound of what only could be the sound of a gun being cocked back. On instinct, he raises his hands with the radio still in his right hand.

"Don't move any more than that. Who the hell are you?"

Moments before...

"...Shit."

I hesitate before walking into my own home. I don't want to see what I did again...but we need as much as we can get. I opened the front door of my home and immediately met with the sight of my mother's body on the kitchen floor, the blood from her wound had now turned wine-red after being dried for so long. I look away from her as I make my way through the house, into my mother's bedroom. Before I could think about what initially happened here, I kneeled down beside her bed and reached under until I felt a small case. I pull it out from underneath the bed and put in the combination, the same as my birthday. Inside...was my mother's Colt 1911, she stole it from my father when she kicked him out of our first home and out of our lives. She claimed that he loved this pistol more than her, so he took it in a cruel sense of irony. I pick it up in my hands, it almost fits perfectly.

"...It's still pretty clean."

I check the chamber, sighing in relief that it's empty for now. I grab the untouched ammo box and extra magazines and begin loading the bullets into them. As I do, I think back to all that's happened after I found Sandy and Clementine. We were safe for most of the night in the treehouse, but some guy tried to break into Clementine's house. I think he wanted to take her TV but all his screaming and shouting brought more of those things out and scared him away. I found the whole ordeal funny because the man was banging on the sliding glass door and he never knew it was unlocked.

"What a dumbass," I say as I finish loading the first clip.

I move on to the second one. I internally cursed myself for leaving Sandy and Clementine alone in the treehouse so I could get some supplies...along with a few other things. I said I wanted to grab them at first light but I ended up oversleeping, and so did the girls. I didn't want to wake them up, so I carefully slipped out of their grip, hopped out of the treehouse, and made a beeline right for my house. The neighborhood had been mostly abandoned minus the few bodies of those monsters lying around. I finish the second and final magazines and put them in my pocket.

"Okay...now to grab my bag."

I leave my mother's bedroom and head back into the living room, the last place where I left my bag. When I find it, I empty it out but I leave my camera and all of my film inside, feeling that I can't simply leave it behind. I should...no, I need to document what's going on. I take my bag into the kitchen, filling it with snacks and protein bars Now with my bag full and having a proper weapon at the ready, I turn from the kitchen and head for the front door...but I stop in my tracks. A thought crosses my mind as I look back to my mother's body.

"...I can't just leave her like that."

I set my bag on the floor and pocketed my pistol. Using my mother's favorite napping blanket she always kept on the couch, I covered and wrapped her body, trying to keep as little blood from staining it as possible. I place her on the couch and rest her head on one of the pillows we kept on it. I step back, grabbing my bag and slinging it over my shoulder.

"..." I allow myself to cry one last time, as I say my parting words to my resting Mother. "...Goodbye, Mom."

I leave the house, making my way back to Clementine's. When I reach the front door, my hand stops before it reaches the knob. Either I'm hearing things, or I can hear the sound of a man's voice coming from inside. I put my ear up to the door, listening closely.

"...your parents?"

Yep, that's definitely a man's voice... I slowly turn the knob and open the door, just in time to see the man head into the kitchen. I move as slowly move through the house and eventually find a man wearing a navy-blue button-down shirt covered...in blood, looking out the kitchen window. I thought I could hear static but I assumed it was the TV, then I saw the man holding a walkie-talkie in his right hand. That's...just like Clementine's...

I raise my gun and pull the chamber back, loading a bullet into it. The audible noise rings throughout the house, and the man freezes in place and raises his hands. My gun shakes in my hand...am I really ready to do something like this?

"...Don't move any more than that. Who the hell are you?" I ask.

"...I'm not one of those things."

"That doesn't really answer my question. Who are-"

"Elijah, wait!" I turned my head to the right at the sudden shout that was Sandy's voice. "He's alright! We talked to him through Clem's radio!"

"Yeah!" Clementine added as she came up alongside Sandy.

"..." I lower my gun, sighing in relief that I didn't have to do anything drastic. I put my pistol in my pocket and turn back to the man...and my eyes widen when I see his face. "...Professor Everett?"

"Elijah?"

"Wait, you know this man?" Sandy asks but I don't answer her.

"What are you doing here?" I ask him but I see his leg with a deep cut. "Oh, shit."

"Swear," Clementine says.

"Right, are you alright, sir?"

"Yeah, I'll be alright."

"How do you know this man, Elijah?"

"He's one of my college professors," I answer Sandy, but I also notice Mr. Everett looking off to the side when I mention that.

"You three have been...all by yourselves through this?" He asks us.

"Yeah."

"I want my parents to come home now," Clementine says sadly.

"...I think that might be a little while, you know?"

"Oh..."

Yeah, Clem may not be able to see her parents with everything that's going on. Who knows what's happening to them? But...why did it sound like that Mr. Everett knows something that we don't? He sounded more sad than he should be.

"Look," My professor steps closer to us, looking at us with a reassuring smile. "I don't know what happened, but I'll look after you three until then."

We nod. "I'm...sorry I pointed my gun at you, sir."

"It's alright, you were scared. And you can just call me 'Lee'. I think formalities are not important right now."

"...Right."

"What should we do now?"

"We need to find help before it gets dark," Lee suggests.

"I agree,"

"Yeah, It's not safe at night," Clementine added.

"Let's go," Lee walks past us and back to the sliding glass door. "Stay close to me, alright?"

We leave the house and Clementine closes the door behind us. He and Lee walk ahead of me and Sandy but we follow close. Speaking of... "Sorry that I- OW!"

She interrupts me by elbowing me in my abdomen. "Cabron. Next time, wake us up before you leave like that, you had us worried sick."

"Everything okey back there?" Lee looks to us.

"Yeah, we're good," I say rubbing my side. I lean in and whisper to Sandy. "I said I was sorry."

"Still, just tell me, please? I don't... I don't want to lose you."

"...I Know, me neither. I promise I'll keep you and Clementine safe."

Sandy takes my hand, interlocking her fingers with mine. "Thank you."

We reach the gate of the house's driveway and see two men trying to move a car from the street. I try to listen to what they're saying, they don't look hostile.

"Aw, man... I ain't ever getting home to Mama at this rate." A heavy-set man exclaims.

"This sucks," The black-haired man says.

"And It's hot dish night."

Lee and I are about to open the gate but we look back and see Clementine looking conflicted. I stand in front and Lee kneels in front of her. "What's the matter?" He asks.

"Should I stay?"

"Huh?"

"What?"

"I don't want to sleep in the treehouse again, but I don't know if I should leave. What if my parents come home?"

"I won't leave you alone."

"Me neither," Sandy adds. "Your parents would want me to look after you and that's what I'm gonna do, Chamaco."

"...Me three," I say. I kneel down with Lee and smile at the little one. "I'll keep you safe too, I promise."

Clementine smiles at us. "Okay. Let's go somewhere safe that's close, okay?"

"That's a good idea," Lee says as he stands back up with me.

"Agreed." Lee and I go back to the gate and open it. We approached the two men as they continued trying to move the car from the street.

"Hey, man!" Lee calls out, startling the two men as they turn around to us.

"Holy shit!"

"Don't eat us!"

Lee holds his hands up. "We're not gonna hurt you."

The black-haired man sighs in relief. "Phew, thought for a second you, those two, and the little one were gonna give us the chomp."

"Do either of you know what the hell this is?" Lee exclaimed.

"No idea. So you've seen them then?" The black-haired man looks behind him, and that's when I see another one of those things dead on the street.

"You could say that," Lee says.

"Yeah..." I add looking off to the side.

"I'm Shawn, Shawn Greene."

"Lee. This is Clementine."

The heavy-set man kneels down to smile and wave at Clementine. "I'm Chet." She smiles back at him when she peeks out from behind Lee.

"I'm Sandra."

"Elijah."

"We shouldn't be out in the open like this. How about you clear the way and we'll take you and your family out of here and down to my family's farm. It should be safer there."

"I'm not her dad," Lee says. "I'm...just some guy."

"'Some guy'?"

"Yeah."

"She's alone?"

"Not entirely," Sandy points out. "I'm her babysitter."

"And I'm her neighbor," I add.

Lee looks back at Clementine before asking, "What do you want to do?"

"I..." Clementine looks backat her home, then back to lee. She's about to say something but Something else catches my ear. The sound...of growling.

Shit...

"Them monsters comin'!" Chet yells out. "We gotta go!"

Shawn leans down to try and push the car out of the road once again, he looks back to me and Lee. "Lee, Elijah, quick! Let's go!"

The three of us push the car, eventually rolling it out of the way of Shawn's truck so we can get away from those things. I really need to think of a name for them. Once the road is clear, clear, Shawn hops in the driver seat, Lee and Clementine hop in the passenger side, Chet, Sandy, and I hop in the truck bed. The truck zooms away from the monsters and Sandy holds onto me.

"You know," Chet says to us. "for just 'some guy,' a babysitter, and a neighbor, you three saved some lives today."

"..." You don't know how wrong you are...

The truck continues on, Sandy loosens her grip on me once she knows we are out of danger. I know I said it before, but I swear on my life, I will do everything in my power to keep her and Clementine safe. Now with Lee here to help, I think things will be alright.