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babslou-blog · 7 years ago

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Be careful what you wish for - Carl Grimes Imagine

Carl never got to say goodbye. He never got to hold her within his arms, never got to apologize. It just happened. Happened out of nowhere, out of the blue. And now Carl is lying down here, looking at the empty spot beside him, as if she were never there. As if she never existed, never became a part of him.

The heart hurts, it hurts bad. The pain cannot be explained with just my simple words. That feeling inside your chest that tells you that someone you love is gone; it cannot be described, not even in a book with numerous words. He would look at her to make sure she was breathing at night; the gentle motions of her body as air filled her lungs was soothing, made the heart pulse happily. It's so quiet, now, it feels so empty. And the only question the mind can form is "Where are you?" Why did you have to go? You made me so happy, comforted me when life got shit. I want to die, just to be close to you again.

There is not even a few of her clothes, not even an item so he can hold to feel whole again. His eye is wet, his lashes and cheeks too. Feels like he's been ripped open; his head is dizzy and heavy from all the crying. His breath stops at his throat, his face is damp and red. Feels abandoned by his own courage, by his own being as he holds himself and sobs.

The fight was just stupid, idiotic, not worth all of this guilt. Carl hates himself, loathes his guts for making her feel that way. He made her feel so sad. He saw her eyes congest with tears before she rushed away, for the very last time. He wanted to say sorry, and when he came back he had looked for her, right away. Why wasn't she anywhere? The only real friend Carl ever had, the only thing he had ever longed for. A friend. Simple, yet so hard to find.

"You're as useless as it is," That's what I had told her. Within the blindness of rage, all kinds of insults and profanities had slipped from my mouth. What am I doing..? I have to apologize.. Yet, I couldn't find it within me. Every time I tried, more poison slipped from between my lips. The more I tried, the more miserable she looked. I pushed myself to the limit, I really did. But no voice of reason came from within me. The only thing I heard myself utter was how much I hated her, how much I didn't want to see her again. How much I wanted her to be swept from the face of earth. What am I doing...? I have to stop.. I have to apologize..

"I wish you'd just die."

When Michonne told him what had happened, he remembers her dark eyes replete with tears for having to reveal it. His face immediately flushed with red, his eye seemed to well up with cascades that he didn't think he had left within him. Carl told himself that he didn't have any more tears to shed, yet the little boy inside of him broke again, started bawling, made his body tremble unsteadily when he sprinted away; keen to make his mind go blank, trying so hard to make the thoughts fade away, yet they only grew more vivid. Carl believed it. He didn't want to go to the grave, didn't want to accept that his oh, so beloved Y/n was buried six feet under.

Carl screams. Grabs at the roots of his hair, claws at his cheeks with his nails and tears the skin. His cry isn't one of anger. Nor is it one of wanting to get vengeance. It's broken, desperate; his body is searching for the person that cannot come back. At that moment, it seems like she will appear just around the corner of the room, question in that sleepy voice, "Why aren't you asleep?" Y/n cracks a smile, comes over, sits on the weary bed. "Can you not sleep without me, princess?"

He would laugh hoarsely, nudge her and tell her to fuck off. But Y/n only smiles again, cackles in delight. Looks him in the eyes and the sound Carl makes is inhuman. He cries pitifully, realizes just how lonely he really is.

It's not like the fairytales. Carl never got to say 'I love you'. He never got to say sorry. He didn't get to be by her side when she breathed her last air, when she croaked out her final words. Didn't get to attend to her burial. Carl never got to kiss her goodbye.

"Carl, when will you take me to the valley again? I want to see the stars. You never know when your last time might be."

The valley. The thought made Carl's lean throat quiver. It was so beautiful from atop the building at the hill; so lovely and panoramic. Romantic. It was outside the wall, not very far away. They'd go there together, sometimes, to goof around. Enjoy life while it lasted. Y/n loved it there. She had gotten a little daisy, tucked it behind Carl's ear and chuckled at the comical face he made. They had been standing beside each other, when Glenn and Abraham were so brutally murdered. Standing up on that hill, hands swathed together. Carl's heart was beating so loud then; he was feeling overwhelmed by feelings he didn't know were feasible to exist. He'd caressed her battered hands when he blew hot air into them, held them within his palms to warm them up. His rough lips had kissed her cold fingers; had brushed against her aching knuckles.

Y/n had given him that look. It wasn't a playful expression; not faking anger or disgust when his mouth turned soft upon her skin. The corner of her lips had twitched slightly, her features seemed sharp and her neck so vulnerable against the cold moonlight. Carl's calloused touch seemed so gentle and comforting against the side of her face. Her lashes had quivered when she blinked; eyes innocent and body vestal to another's graze. When her orbs faltered upward they caught a strange glint in within his gaze; one which made the flesh on her arms and legs prickle with gooseflesh, and it wasn't just from the bleak wind lathering the clothes hanging from her frame.

He should have done it then. It felt right, at that moment. Carl was about to move in, when the walkie-talkie strapped to his hip started emitting sounds. He'd stopped, forehead resting against her own for a moment, breathing shakily through his parted lips. They never talked about it.

Now, Carl stands at the top of the hill, all on his own. His hat is within his arms, held against his tremulous chest. His messy locks are twisting and twirling as the swings of the wind dance through them. The first time he goes to the valley after it happened. Funny, he thinks as he stares to the horizon, the full moon reflecting with his glassy eye. She's gone, just like the wind. It's so hard to find it within himself, not to take a step forward. He's standing so close to the edge and the distance between Carl and death is so small. It's as if something is calling out to him. A siren of silent thought, gently taking his hands and smoothly whispering to him to do it.

"Isn't it so beautiful here?"

Carl hates himself for it. Hates himself for not finding the strength to fight his emotions and he cries. It doesn't feel right. It can't be right. Gaze viewing over the place she used to sit and admire the view; the sound of her laughter filling his ears is unbearable. Her palms are glowing gently when he looks over, her face is a grey blur. But she's smiling.

"I caught a firefly!" The voice cheers excitedly, sounds so real that he wants to tear his torso open and rip out his own lungs. Y/n holds out her arms, revealing the bright, little creature. She giggles happily, and the noise sounds so close. "I love you, Carl."

"Shut up!"

The old Sheriff's hat falls down, against the cold concrete, with a soft sound. Carl's shoulders are shaking violently when he tries to breathe, heart pumping hastily and cutting off his air supply. It feels as if he's having a seizure; only this is worse. His mental state comes crashing down, the bits he has left of his emotional health rot like forsaken, bleeding blossoms. He feels so lonely. So abandoned. Emotions too strong for a person to describe; only to feel. There is no happy ending when someone dies. There's only despair, pain and guilt.

Carl's sobs are muffled to his own ears even if they rattle his body with immense power. He can't let go, even if he wants to. The nature is so quiet, so warm and understanding. The moon is round and powerful; radiating like a beacon beyond the sea of tall trees. It's the only source of life that is yet left within the dark of the night, and Carl is curled up on his battered raft, but the soothing blackness can't reach him. All the pain he feels, all the blame that is playing with his fucked up mind has his body and spirit in thousands of shards. He can't breathe. When he tries, his breath continuously catches in his throat as if a fish hook has been attached to his windpipe and is being tugged forcibly every time. It feels like he is dying.

The bleating boy turns over, crying out toward the sky. The concrete beneath his head is cold, and the glowing stars above somehow relent his pain. Air fills his lungs again as he opens his mouth to inhale, eye broad and red, body scattered and soul detached from his very core. He cranes his neck without much effort, sniffling as he stares at the void beside him. She would sit right there, with her legs crossed. She sometimes brought a book along, so she could read it out loud, as to not forget how to speak. Other times, when it was nightfall, stargazing was lovely. Cliché and boring to some, but.. to them, it was something magical. The universe seemed so vast and they felt so small. The galaxy was shining, far beyond the milky dots on the black fabric of the sky. Falling stars were a scarcity, but they had seen one; Y/n had started squealing and pointing and Carl had shot up, visibly upset to have his calm slumber disturbed.

"Look, look! Aw, come on, you didn't look! Stop being a little bitch, it was a shooting star. You have to make a wish; do you know how rare this is? Here, I'll go first. I wish Carl would stop ruining the mood and being a little bitch!"

Carl made a face, his brow furrowing as the girl burst in a fit of hysterical cackles. He reached over, behind him, grasping the bottle of water he had brought with him, and his rosy lips peeled into a sinister grin. Oh, well. Rick had told him to use it in emergencies only, anyway.

The shriek she made when he poured the cold liquid over her head was delightful. The boy couldn't stop laughing; his eye had collected tears, he couldn't see through them. It had been a long, long time since he'd been in such a good mood. His face had flushed from the overwrought seizure of laughter, and the smack on the back of his skull only made him go breathless from giggling so much. Carl always loved innocent moments like these.

"You..you asshole!" cried Y/n, visibly upset as the water soaked through the material of her shirt and cascaded down her tresses. "I'm gonna catch a cold, now, because of you. I hope you're happy."

The girl pouted as Carl clapped his hands together, amused. The young man only looked up at her, sporting that shit-eating grin as he rose his eyebrows at his friend. Y/n's heart fluttered for a moment, but she maintained her composure, shaking her head and wringing out her damp locks. She had never seen him so happy before.

"Oi, go fuck yourself..." said Y/n with a low chuckle, rubbing the side of her sore neck. "You're such a fucking spaz... you're red! Doesn't your face hurt?"

"No, but yours is killing me."

Carl snorted when he saw her holding back a smile. Y/n opened her mouth to speak, comically offended as she shoved at his shoulder and grumbled. "Unoriginal as always.." she sneered playfully and winked, clicking her tongue. "Stop stealing my jokes; go get a life, already.."

Carl only smiled, feeling his spine quiver when she pressed her hand against her cheek, laughing heartily and making his heart skip a beat. Why was he feeling like this? It was confusing, messing with his mind and Carl hated it. He was still looking at her, however, eye slightly hooded, lips briefly parted. His blue iris pursued the droplet of water against her skin; cascading down her neck and between her collarbones, until it dissolved against the brim of her blouse. He saw when her body quaked and her eyes momentarily closed; she was cold. Carl felt a little bad for spurting that freezing water upon her, watched the wet spots on her clothing and shivered himself.

He hesitated, but slightly scooted closer, draping his arm over her shoulder and giving her space to come near. Carl didn't know what he was expecting, he felt her tense at his touch and watched her head shot up inquisitively. Y/n was greeted by his placid, calm expression, and his warm look had made her eyes shy away instantly. She said nothing; she merely faltered beside him, quietly crawling to his side and embracing him with reluctant arms.

"Make a wish..but..." she whispered, her voice soft and silent. " ..be careful what you wish for. You might get it."

It is the middle of the night. Everything is engulfed by the dark as clouds pass by. It is as if the time has stopped, the earth has stopped its motions. The night was calm, but the wind was harsh and cold, howling its unending song. The pale skin of his hands was only made more bitter, fingers as spiritless as snow.

"I wish you were here."

Carl's voice came out broken and undulating, sounding peculiar to his own ears. He felt dirty. Filthy with sorrow and sin. His gruff lips curled into a fine line; the lips that could have smiled at her gags, that could have pressed against her head and kissed the side of her neck, yet instead allowed all these foul words to flow from between them.

"I wish you were here!" cried out a person that he couldn't recognize as himself.

Carl sniffled, mouth pouting as he desperately reached for the gun holstered to his hip. The metal was icy and cruel, but felt comforting and familiar within his palm; a shape he had been acquainted with all too well. The orbed muzzle kissed his temple, and Carl's lean throat quivered, a ruptured, twisted smile stretching across his tear-stained face.

"It was just a dream, sweet." Y/n mumbled softly, her fingers gently pecking Carl's wet cheek. The boy looked up, like a wounded puppy, beautiful eye glistening and injury outright exposed. He was so frightened; he didn't reach for his patch or cover it up with his palm. Carl let her see.

She normally wouldn't use such delicate words. She was brash and aggressive at times, and he never would have imagined her sitting here, mouthing him tender words and fondling the side of his face. Her kind heart showed when he gazed right within her eyes; saw how battered and rived she really was. Just a little girl.

Y/n embraced him contentedly, let him rest his head against her chest and close his eye. She smiled meekly when he hugged her back, bashfully nuzzling her shoulder and afraid to let go. Carl made a sound of protest when she slightly withdrew, arms tightening around her waist and heart fluttering continuously.

"It's okay," He heard her whisper; felt her voice against his hair when spoke. Her scrimp fingers daintily caressed his dark tufts, compassionate lips pressed against his temple. "I love you, Carl. I'm right here. I'm right here..."

The pistol fell from his limp palm almost instantly. Clattered to the concrete with an ear-splitting din, made the crows on the nearby tree caw in surprise and fly away. Carl was in denial, in emotional overwhelm. His lower lash-line twitched slightly, and his chest quaked sorely, deluged by the pain he was feeling. As the moon came into view again, and shed light upon the world it numbed the ache for a moment.

Carl was sitting down, with his legs folded, next to his best friend. They were both quiet and still, staring in awe at the glowing stars. He didn't dare look beside him; either because no one would be there, or because she would be seated right next to him. He could feel the presence lingering in the air. The pair of eyes burning cavities against the side of his head, yet he never turned. Too scared to face reality. It felt like she was staring right at him, even if no living soul was dwelling around him in range of two kilometers.

As Carl stared up, at the galaxy beyond, he didn't feel so lonely anymore. His heart overflowed with warmth, and his breathing caught in his throat, but he refused to cry. He hated when she would see him cry. Who knows, maybe Carl is crazy. His sanity is scattered like the petals of a daisy, but at the same time he is composed. He bring his hand to his face and wipes the dry strings of chutes that had seeped down his cheeks.

"I'm so sorry." He says, even if his eye wells up with water again. "I'm so, so sorry, Y/n. I hope you find it in your heart to f-forgive me one day...one..day..."

Carl's breathing quickens, and he is talking to the person that is intently looking at him. The person sitting down beside his form. The boy digs with his slender fingers within the roots of his hair, emitting a shaky sigh.

"I love you. I love you... I love you so, so much...so.. much.."

The boy turns to look, but no one is there. He's talking to thin air. He searches for her in the darkness, tries to look for her eyes... her eyes.. chaotic, lovely eyes..Carl wants to start slamming his head against the cement below. He doesn't want to cry. But he does. He cries a lot, ceaselessly, until he can't see. He's muttering things he can't understand, yet some of the words he utters is her name. No one will save Carl from himself. He screams, writhes, hits his fists down until his knuckles are bruises and his knees sore. But nobody came.

"I wish you were here..."

Carl breaks in a fit of pitiful sobs and mewls, lying on his side against the cold, body curled up as if to rot away. His cries are distant, his heart inconsolable and his being lonely. His body temperature raises, and he feels like he will die from the cold as a powerful headache rattles his poor body. The fever emerging from within him is making the veins in his temples throb painfully.

I wish you'd just die.

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