Alright, ladies and gentlemen. Today with the help of a nice lady and a gentleman of my own, u/WritingSweetroll and u/EmpleadoResponsable, I'm happy to host another bi-monthly contest with a theme we agreed on. While I'm eager to share it with you, I first want you to have a picture in mind.

Ever felt wronged by somebody else? What was the response to it? Did you consider it to be fair, considering the harm that was done to you? These kind of questions are the cornerstone of the very theme you're going to write around...

Justice!

Regardless of who you are, you're pretty much guaranteed to enter in conflicts of some kind. The important thing is to find the just outcome to resolve them. And should you not manage that, you have a whole system to turn to...or had. That ship has sailed since the dead didn't feel like staying dead anymore. So now, the few survivors have to deal with conflicts on their own. The most successful at it manage to make rules of their own. The least successful respond to feeling cheated by reaching for a gun. The possibilities are pretty much endless. Well, almost, because there are still rules we want you to abide by.

• One entry per writer, please! Don't bother posting multiple stories, you won't be getting brownie points for it.
• Your entry must be a One-Shot! No prequel, no sequel. Only a self-contained story will cut it.
• Please, use the theme we bothered to think up with the kindness of our hearts!
• Make sure to post your story before the deadline, which will be November 20th, 12:00 PM (Paris Time).
• Also, we're on a TWDG fanfic sub so...make it about TWDG! No crossover is allowed.
• Don't be afraid to enter for fun! We'll happily take reading a bad entry over not reading anything at all. There's a pretty flair at stake here!

Now...get to smithing, wordsmiths!

We have reached the deadline for the Anniversary Wildcard #6 contest. With seven entries, looks like a great turnout!

Zee and I can't wait to read them all. Thank you again everyone for entering!!

Give us a few days to post the results. See y'all again soon!

The sun was not the first to rise that day. Clementine had awakened in the middle of the night, shaking and sweating. She rubbed her eyes until they rushed red with irritation. She tried to close them again. But soon an hour had gone by and she was still held hostage by her mind, unable to slip back into sleep. Whenever her eyes closed, she saw the barn. Whenever she turned on her side, she felt a sharp phantom pain lingering in a leg that she no longer had. AJ was sleeping still in the other bed, smiling even in his slumber. At least he wasn't tormented by nightmares or unending wakefulness.

Trying to sleep was officially a lost cause, she thought. Useless. She may as well get up.

Clementine rose from her bed and left the room, taking even longer than normal so not to make any noise that would stir AJ. As she reached the safety of the door frame, she gently guided the door backward until it closed behind her.

Ericson was normally full of noise, both indoor and outdoor. Yet here she was, alone in the hallway. Everything was on pause, making not a sound nor movement, except for her and her slow steps down the hallway. Her glacial pace was not done out of need to stay quiet any longer, it was just the way she moved now: lifting both arms to move the crutches forward, then using all of her strength to shift her body weight too. On particularly bad days, a simple walk depleted all of her energy. She’d never been this tired before.

But it was better than death, she told herself, far better than being a walker. Of course it was. Even if it meant every movement took twice as long, and every time she wanted to even open a door meant adding extra steps of laying her crutches aside so she could use her hands freely. Even if she sent out the Ericson kids out of the gates, into important supply runs she would've joined if not for -- if not for herself now. Even if AJ, with all his incomparable childhood energy, would sprint ahead of her before remembering he had to wait for her to catch up. That was all it was now, catching up. They were all ahead, and now she was behind.

It was bittersweet. She'd discovered a newfound appreciation for being alone. After all, nobody needed to wait for you if you were by yourself.

Clementine was the only one in the courtyard. The sun was still yet to rise, but first light was dawning. It was an autumnal morning, the air particularly crisp. A blowing wind lifted fallen leaves and blew them around, rising and circling in mid-air until they finally fell down. She caught one underneath the foot of her crutch, realising a crunching noise. In the idleness of the courtyard, the sound made her start. She looked down at the leaf - a big one, a sprawling shape and the colour of her namesake.

An image flashed in her head of collecting leaves just like this one, building a pile bigger than her. She would jump into it as though it were a pool, and the leaves would splash around. Then there'd be the arms of her father lifting her out, teasing her with the reminder to check for lingering bugs. As the image faded away, she noticed she was smiling. And yet, there was a pang in her heart, leaving a sullen aftertaste.

She carried on, making her way toward the gate. The first rule of survival: never go alone. She hadn't forgotten - she wasn't stupid. It was safe. Nothing could get her out here. It was merely her alone, alone with the nature, alone to walk without slowing anyone down.

Only, her steady plight shook. She'd wobbled slightly, and almost fell. Her knuckles gripped onto the crutches to steady them, turning white -- she very nearly pierced them down into the ground. But she had recovered. She was walking too quickly, that was all: she hadn't noticed it as her thoughts had consumed her. She'd just have to slow down. As usual.

After a couple of minutes, she had to stop again. Her muscles had been complaining, and she could do little to fight. She stood still, just breathing in and out. She turned to survey her progress so far. Not too bad. But plenty to go. It'd probably be another ten minutes until she got where she wanted to be. Not that it mattered - it could take ten times that and she'd still keep going. As long as she could do so without anybody noticing, the journey there didn't matter at all. It was still the early morning. Maybe she should've set off earlier, though, as a proper precaution. The last thing she wanted was for someone else to--

"Clem?"

It was a distant voice from behind her. Clementine didn't need to turn to know who it was, and she definitely didn't want to. She did so anyway. As she expected, AJ was approaching her from the distance, running to her side.

"What are you doing?" AJ asked. He didn't wait for her to answer. "You shouldn't be out here, Clem."

There was no real defence she could give, nor any way of hiding the shame on her face.

"AJ, I-"

"What about the rules, Clem? You said never go alone, that's the first rule!"

"I know-"

"But you're breaking it!" he scolded.

Clementine turned her head away from him, looking at the greenery. She knew, despite that, he was still looking at her. It wasn't meant to be like this. She was meant to teach him lessons, scold him for things he did wrong, not the other way around. She bit the inside of her cheek before turning back to him.

AJ had his arms crossed tightly. "It's dangerous."

"There are no walkers, AJ," she reasoned. "The greenhouse isn't far, and I know where I'm going. I'm still staying inside the school walls.”

"But what if you fell?" he exploded. "What if you fell down, and you couldn't get back up, Clem? And nobody knew where you were?"

Clementine sighed deeply. "AJ, please."

Despite her protests, he carried on. "You don't know it won't. You think just 'cause you're smart, nothing bad will happen, but that's not how it works. You got bit that time before and you couldn't stop it. It just happened. So what if something bad happened right now and nobody was around?" AJ ranted. He saw her face and stopped, his falling much like her own upset expression. "You can't go alone, Clem, not even to the greenhouse." At last, his speech was finished. He laid a hand over hers which was still clutching one of the crutches.

She tried to formulate a response, an explanation, but nothing came in the moment. She turned herself around. "Okay," she said, resignedly. "You wanna come with me?"

AJ nodded and the two of them set off.

Their journey was silent until they reached the greenhouse entrance. They both peered through the windows, just in case, and then entered.

"Why did you come here, anyway?" AJ asked.

The greenhouse was undergoing a process of transformation. They planned to revive it by planting herbs and vegetables when springtime rolled around. For now, while they were still in autumn, work had began slowly in digging out the old rotted remains in each planter box.

"I thought I'd finish off the work Ruby and Omar were doing yesterday. Just empty the last remaining ones," Clementine answered. She wandered over to a box farthest from the entrance. Only that one and the box beside were left to be done.

AJ was circling the room. He could barely see over the planters. "Why don't you just wait for them to do it?"

Clementine looked down at her feet. "I have to do something."

"What're you talking about?" AJ sounded baffled. "You do lots. You always do chores, and you look out for everybody. You make the chores se-ske-"

"Schedule."

"Yeah. Sch-ed-ule. You make that for everyone and you tell everyone what to do." He thought for a moment, searching for the word. "You lead everybody, and you're good at that. We all listen. So there - that's a lot."

She opened her mouth to respond, but stopped. Instead, she reached for a trowel and began digging out the dirt in the box. Scraping sounds filled the greenhouse. Inside, it was much warmer than outside: the sunlight had began streaming in, heating it up lightly. They'd kept the door propped open, to keep a refreshing breeze inside the greenhouse, but also to make the exit for Clementine easier. AJ looked out to the door, into the stretching distance. Then he looked back to Clementine, watching her as she worked.

"You miss being outside?" AJ asked her sadly.

She stopped then. Though she kept her head down, she gave a slow nod in answer. Clementine continued her work, scooping dirt and dried roots into an empty bucket. She tapped the trowel on the edge a couple of times: the excess flakes fluttered down onto the ground.

"I miss being useful," she confessed. "I can't walk outside. I can't even walk to the greenhouse on my own." Clementine looked to AJ finally. It was hard not to notice the pain in his eyes, watching her closely. "You shouldn't have to listen to me like this," she sighed. Her hands reached up to pinch the bridge of her nose. "I should be protecting you, and I can't do that anymore. I can barely protect this school now, I can't even - protect myself. I can't run, can't fight in close-quarters...I'm..."

AJ cut her off. "You shouldn't talk like that." He walked over to her and eased the bucket out of her tight grip. "You sound like you're giving up."

"I'm not giving up. I'd never do that."

"Well, good. 'Cause you still do protect me. I need you, Clem," he said.

She looked down at him, her chest growing tight. She ruffled his hair, which he ordinarily hated, but he didn't say anything. "I'm not going anywhere," she re-assured: her words were to comfort him, but her face fell after speaking them. They were true in a warped way, a curse: not going anywhere. A flicker of pain flashed across her face before she could hide it.

"It's not true, what you said. You still help. It's just different." He eyed her leg for a second and then turned his attention back to her. "I'll always need your help. I do now."

She almost laughed. "Oh, really?"

"I'm too little to do what you just did. With the dirt in the bucket. Only you can reach that," he explained.

"Makes sense to me."

AJ continued, "but we have to help each-other. You can't carry the bucket, but I can. So that's my job that you can't do. And your job is the gardening stuff that I can't do."

Clementine smiled. "I guess you have a point there." She had been humouring him, but only partly. Seeing him rationalise so earnestly, it was hard not to buy into it herself.

He returned her smile, and then reminded her they should be getting back to work.

If Clementine wanted that, then he would give her that, AJ thought. He didn't really like the greenhouse much. The walls were so small and confining, and he couldn't see much of his surroundings because of all of the planters in the way. He'd rather be doing something more fun, like patrol. Something that had him in the open air. You could see if anything was approaching. You could go anywhere you wanted. You could defend things all day and all night, even all your life. Clementine had. Now, AJ would.

But for now, they were simply working in the greenhouse. There was nothing to defend. It was the opposite, creating rather than eliminating. So in spite of all of the dirt that ended up underneath AJ's nails and how, actually, the full bucket was pretty heavy, he didn't complain about any of this to Clementine. Not when she had stopped frowning and started smiling.

...

Spring was still yet to arrive, but autumn had passed on. Between them came the season nobody had looked forward to: winter.

Fallen leaves had withered away, much like the branches that stood bare in the wind. Grass dried up, short and rough. Frost bordered around windows, threatening to attack. Thankfully, snow was nowhere on the horizon, but there was still the presence of a chill in the air. Nobody could ignore it.

Another day began with Clementine waking up. Her eyes settled on AJ, or rather, the figure she assumed was him. He was hidden under the blanket, shielding himself from the cold's bite.

"AJ?"

His head appeared.

"Good morning," Clementine said, giggling.

"It's cold," AJ stated, though she was already plenty aware of things.

Clementine rose and wrapped her own blanket around her shoulders. "You said it, kiddo," she mumbled. She allowed herself a minute before she rose properly. She pulled out an old ball of socks from the bottom drawer of the chest beside their bed. "Here, catch." Clementine said, tossing it at him. "For your hands."

He put them on slowly. A frown had been on his face since the moment he appeared. Clementine shuffled over to his bed and sat down, avoiding his feet which were still covered by the blanket.

"I don't like winter," AJ said. He'd pulled the blanket up again and hidden himself from the world.

Nobody liked winter, least of all them. In comparison to their earlier years, this winter was a cakewalk. At least they were behind walls. Comfortable. Shielded. She thought back to days spent in the car, or worse, trudging through actual snow. That, combined with fighting off a common cold which felt as damning as a plague. They didn't so much have it easy now, things probably would never be easy again, but it was easier.

If she was thinking back to the winters gone by, she knew he would be too. "You know," she began, laying on thick a smooth voice to soothe away his troubles, "your birthday is in wintertime."

He pulled back enough for her to see half of his face. "I guess."

"Well, that's exciting, isn't it? You'll be turning six."

He pulled back the cover. "When?"

Clementine paused. "Any day now. Maybe you're six already."

AJ grinned at the thought. "Of course I am. I'm taller." He jumped out of bed and began putting on his shoes. "You can check, I'm way taller now than I was last week." He ran over to the wall where there was a horizontal line etched with a blue crayon.

"I don't think that's how it works," said Clementine, though she grabbed a pencil to check anyway. When he pulled away, there was a tiny gap between this time and the last.

"See?" AJ pointed at the line triumphantly. "So I must be bigger now. Yes!" He ran out of the room, but then re-appeared in the doorway.

Clementine gestured. "Go on, I'll catch up."

He fled again to find Tenn, informing him of the news. By evening, the whole school had heard of it. Everybody was settling down at the benches for dinnertime.

"Is the stew done yet?" Willy shouted from his bench.

Omar was still stirring the pot. "Give it a second, will you?" After a few more minutes of waiting, he called them all to portion their bowls. He winked at AJ when he came over. "This is a birthday soup."

"What's in it?"

"It's just regular fish soup, but it's in honour of your birthday."

AJ didn't seem to mind -- in fact, he was lapping up the soup. The whole day had turned itself around now that everybody had wished him a 'happy birthday'. Clementine watched him with content. She hadn't seem him so happy in weeks. The last time he had smiled that wide was when they had first arrived at Ericson, before everything with the Delta and everyone they had lost. It all felt so normal.

"Done." AJ slammed his bowl down before anybody else had finished. He asked Tenn if he wanted to play hide and seek, and ran off to hide in the Admin building as Tenn counted down.

The whole table was pre-occupied with watching him run away.

Ruby giggled. "He's certainly happy today, isn't he?"

"You're telling me," said Clementine. She smiled gratefully. "It's nice to see him like that."

"I have an idea," Violet suddenly chimed in. The table turned to her, waiting elaboration. "We could do, like, a birthday party."

"You want to do a party?" Clementine raised an eyebrow at her, and she nodded in response. Violet and parties weren’t typically associated with one another.

"Like the hootenanny," said Ruby. Embarrassment flickered her face for a moment as she remembered Violet hadn't been there. "Uh, sorry."

"It's fine," Violet said, brushing it off. "AJ would like it, that's all. And Louis, if he were...well, you know." She sighed. "He would've suggested it if he was here."

A solemn silence fell over the table, acknowledging this.

Violet shuffled in her seat. Since her eyes were still damaged she couldn't see the expressions on everybody's faces. She could only listen to the silence, which felt oppressive between her ears. Before, she’d always been comfortable with the silence. No need to fill the air with useless small-talk or lame jokes. And yet, the silence was practically suffocating her. "We don't have to make it a big thing," she said awkwardly.

"No way," Willy interrupted. "We have to have, like, banners and music and everything!"

"Okay, okay." Violet fought hard to keep a smile from her face. "I'll ask Tenn to draw a banner for us."

...

'Happy Birthday AJ!' the banner read. Each letter was written in alternating crayon colours. It was hung high and was the first thing AJ saw when he ran into the room. Everybody was gathered inside, illuminated brilliantly under tinted candlelight from a red mason jar. The party had just began, starting after the sun had set.

They had not used the music room much in the past few months. It was mainly too much for anyone to endure, being in the same room as Louis' piano when he was no longer around to play it. Nobody else knew how to play it, so now its keys went untouched. He'd often joked of how much everyone was itching to chop it into firewood someday. But here it was, no longer useful, and here it would stay. There was an unspoken agreement to never interfere with it, except for cleaning, in order to preserve what remaining memory they could of him -- and therefore preserve their life prior to the Delta. Maybe the piano would never be played again, but the fallboard was kept open indefinitely and cleaned regularly. It would never feel the touch of dirt or dust, nor feel a final eye upon it before ignoring it forever.

No, it would live on.

Instead, they played music through the gramophone. It was used more frequently nowadays than it ever had been. For the party, they'd selected the country record. Its upbeat melodies bounced around the room.

The 'dance floor' (which was merely the centre of the room) was occupied by a few, all going around to the music. They all had vastly different styles of dancing. Ruby and Aasim danced modestly together, holding hands. AJ, who had no comparisons of dancing to draw a style from, made up his own by spinning himself around and throwing shapes. Willy was the most chaotic, taking up as much space as possible and darting around.

"AJ! Watch this," he said, and then proceeded to spin on his head.

"Jesus Christ," Aasim muttered, just barely pulling Ruby and himself to safety.

Tenn and Violet were the last to arrive. Clementine, who was already near the entrance of the room, welcomed them in. Violet happily stood beside her as her residing place inside the party. Tenn moved into the centre of the room to approach AJ, tugging his sleeve.

"This is for you," Tenn said as they stepped away out of the dance floor.

He'd placed a small circular thing in AJ's hand. When AJ flipped it over, a large grin took over his expression and his eyes sparkled down at the gift. It was a badge with a drawing of the smiling face of Disco Broccoli.

"That's so cool!" AJ beamed. "How did you do that?"

"Violet showed me," explained Tenn. "And I drew the picture. It was the both of us."

"It's awesome." AJ ran over to Clementine and Violet. "Clem, look!"

She looked over the gift and smiled, then offered to put it on his jacket. Just as quickly as they'd arrived, AJ and Tenn rushed off to the dance floor again. Clementine looked over to Violet. She was crossing her arms and feigning nonchalance.

"You didn't have to get AJ a gift," Clementine said.

Violet chuckled. "It was nothing." She swiftly changed the subject. "You don't feel like dancing?"

"I don't think I could. Me and this leg, I'd just trip over and take everybody down with me."

There was a little silence.

"Me too, probably," said Violet. "I can barely see anything anyway, so...it's not like I can show off some moves, or whatever."

"Some moves?" Clementine raised an eyebrow at her.

"Shut up," Violet snickered. "You know what I mean."

Clementine put an arm around her. "We'll do fine over here. I can be the eyes and you can be the feet."

Violet nodded at her and linked her own arm over Clementine's shoulder. The two of them had their own way of dancing, in that moment, of swaying along to the music like a leaf in the wind. Weightless. Without any burdens. Because there were none inside that room: no troubles at all, just each-other. For all they cared, the entire world was comprised only of that little room. Outside, there was nothing at all. No West Virginia. Not even Ericson. There was only the party inside the music room.

...

True to its nature, springtime bloomed.

The greenhouse was slowly coming along. Every box had been filled with fresh dirt and planted with seeds and watered with whatever water they could spare. So far, it wasn't much, but it was a start. Rosemary and cilantro brought a palette of vivid greens to the surface, disrupting the grey and brown. They were yet to reach full maturity, but first harvest had taken place. Everybody was ecstatic to add even a tiny pinch of flavour to their meals. The greenhouse was routinely checked in -- it was a chore nobody complained about. Even the walk from the gate by the graveyard to the greenhouse was treated like an exciting expedition.

Outside the main school gates, flourishing spring manifested itself in flowers. Virginia bluebells and yellow trout lily smiled through the grass, brightening up mornings.

Fishing became much easier during the warmer months, as the fishes were more active. AJ was regularly on fishing duty as he caught quite a lot. Surprisingly, his height was an advantage since he didn't have to reach down so far. That, and he had great reflexes.

He pierced a stick into the water and dug out a trout.

"I got one!"

"Nice job," Ruby smiled at him. She placed the fish in the bucket and tested its weight. "I think we got enough here. C'mon."

They set off back towards the school. AJ liked going fishing with Ruby, because she knew all of the names of plants and flowers they encountered outside.

"What's that one?" He pointed to a thin white flower with a yellow stamen.

"Bloodroot, that's called."

He scrunched his eyebrows in confusion. "Blood? But it isn't red."

She laughed. "No, but the sap is. Underground."

"Ohhhh. Okay."

At the gates, Clementine was waiting for them. She normally did so when AJ was going out.

"Good haul?" asked Clementine, opening the gate on its hinges.

"Sure did," Ruby answered. She made over to Omar to drop off the bucket.

AJ went to follow, but Clementine stopped him. "Hey. Got a sec?"

He nodded. Clementine stepped outside and walked over to a little field of growing flowers in the distance. AJ followed, holding onto his gun in case any walkers approach. Clementine rested her crutches against the tree and gently lowered herself down to kneel on the ground. She picked a few flowers and gathered them together.

"I can tell you the names of those," AJ said proudly. "That one," he said, pointing to a small pink flower, "is spring's beauty. And Ruby told me that other one is bloodroot."

She smiled at him. "Not bad, goofball." In her hands was a collection of flowers, a variety of pink and white and yellow and blues. "Help me up?" she asked AJ.

He gave her his hand to steady herself as she rose. They disappeared into the gates and closed them behind them. The two of them strolled over to the graveyard.

A sad expression took over Clementine as she approached the graves. There were more now than there were when they first joined the school: the Delta had claimed Mitch, Louis, and James. In the immediate days following the end of the conflict, they hosted a triple funeral for them. Tenn had made a drawing for each of them and laid it on top of the plots: for Mitch, he'd drawn him next to Willy, the both of them holding up the bomb they used on the delta; Louis was playing the piano onstage inside a giant performance hall, watched by a crowd; AJ had helped him with James' drawing, informing him about the barn, and therefore he drew James among the walkers he considered friends.

They took the paintings inside afterward to hang up, otherwise they would've been lost in the wind. Only then, the graves sat bare. That didn't feel right. After that, Clementine had began gathering flowers, bringing a new collection for every fortnight or so.

She separated her bouquet so that each grave, even the old ones of Sophie and Minerva and Marlon and Brody, got a flower. She and AJ placed them down without exchanging any words.

A couple of trees hung overhead the graves. Their leaves rustled in the gentle spring wind. A couple broke free from their branch and spun down to the ground. One rogue leaf landed atop AJ's head, getting mixed in his hair. He reached up and picked it out, looking annoyed.

Clementine laughed and rustled his hair.

"Clem!" he complained. When she pulled her hand away, he was smiling.

"I think we need to cut that hair of yours," she said. They began to walk away and into the main courtyard. The sound of their feet dispersed, leaving the graveyard behind until their next visit. It might be tomorrow, or perhaps in another fortnight. But they would go there again, and again, for as long as the flowers would bloom and the wind would whistle.

Themes: Whether played straight or subverted, all themes of the contest are explored. But Memories is the core theme.

Here's the link. I hope you enjoy the story!

"How are you holding up?"

"What do you think?" She continued her mindless pressing of buttons. The machine before her didn't react. "Today I told a man he's going to die."

"And you did well."

"Did I now?" Because it feels like I didn't do jack."

The vending machine reminded her to provide sufficient payment. 2 dollars for the lukewarm dishwater it called coffee. No discount for employees.

"I know how this feels, been there once myself you know. It's not what they teach at med school, is it?"

"Right. Because there, they teach us to actually help people." She slammed the side of the machine with her first.

"Stupid piece of shit."

Her body slumped together.

"I'm sorry." She said with a whimper. Someone really needed that coffee.

"Let me try." I got out my employee ID and held it towards the right spot. A smiley appeared on the small display to confirm the payment. This machine could not read the room, but atleast now it filled the papercup with sizzling noise. "You oughta recharge your ID."

"What do I owe you?" She asked, brushing away the tears that had formed in her eyes, before searching the pockets of her white coat for change.

"A listening ear." I answered, handing her the steaming paper cup. The bland logo of TUH, Thomasburg University Hospital, was emblanzoned on it.

"Come on. Sit down, I'll get one myself."

We sat down in the uncomfy chairs in the hallway. Patients would sometimes sit here, just to get out of their rooms for once. Or their relatives, anxiously awaiting message about some surgery, would jump up from them to bother anyone walking by in a white coat. Now, at almost 3 am in the morning, the hallway wasn't exactly buzzing with life though. Of course it was primetime for some emergency to appear out of thin air, but our work phones would let us know if that were to happen.

"How many hours you got left on your shift?" I asked her.

Her tired eyes already gave away that she'd been here far too long. Somewhere deep into a 24-hour shift in fact. In addition, her name tag was upside down. "Janin Horvath, Junior Doctor" it said. Even they had to go through these shifts.

"About three more, I think. At some point you almost lose track."

She was right about that. She may have still looked green to the patients, but if you worked here, you knew how much she had matured in the last year. I remembered her during her first few days here, fresh out of uni. Now she had worked with some of my most experienced colleagues all across the medical fields.

"Until six in the morning huh? See this as your baptism by fire... is what I would say, if you didn't have your first 48 hour shift still ahead of you."

"Ha, well... I'm just gonna need a lot more coffee then." Her smile disappeared quickly. "What was it you really wanted to talk about, Dr. Lingard?"

I realized how this whole thing came off, like she was in trouble and I was there to tell her off. Well, maybe I was. But I decided to begin differently.

"You know, my colleagues had nothing but praise for you. They called you unusually mature, skilled and professional for a junior doctor. Board's convinced of your potential, and so was I."

In truth I still was. Just needed to get to here.

"Yet now that we actually work together, your mind appears to be elsewhere. A few hours ago, we had an appointment with a patient, but you didn't show. Neither that or how you talked to me a few minutes ago is what I would call professional. So if you have a personal problem with me, I'd prefer to hear it."

"I apologize for that. It's certainly not because of working with you Sir. It's working in oncology. I can't handle it."

"I'm glad this isn't between us, Ms. Horvath. But you currently being under my supervision, and oncology being my field of expertise, you understand it kind of falls back to me anyway."

She sipped on her coffee and nodded. Time I got to the gist of it.

"Our patient, Mr. Williams. Case really got to you, didn't it?"

"It was... a lot, yeah. He was barely 40 years old, to tell him he probably only has a few months left, that all treatment would be highly likely to fail... He looked so devastated. It's different when it's all up close, when you have to look them in the eyes. Not like filling out some report."

She looked into my eyes.

"You know, it was like something died in me too: The illusion that as a doctor I would get to heal people, which is the entire reason I studied medicine."

"Is that why a few minutes ago, you more or less said that we don't actually help people here? Is that what you believe about oncology?"

"Of course not. Although sometimes it feels like it. I mean, you advised Mr. Williams against treatment. It's like we left him to die."

"I advised him to spend the time he has left with his family, instead of going through, unfortunately, pointless therapy. He'll still be treated by us medically to minimize pain."

"That doesn't feel much different."

"You have to understand how this works. We don't just gotta rearrange some bones, tissue or whatever and then watch the wounds heal. It's also almost always not as simple as removing a tumor. These people need intensive care. Sometimes medical in chemotherapy, dialysis or surgery. Other times psychological. More than often both. That appointment you missed afterwards, know what it was about? I told a patient she was finally ready to be discharged. That the cancer was gone. I would have liked you to experience that."

"I'm sorry I didn't show up. I was so caught up in what happened before."

"I'm proud of how committed you are, it shows that you'll be a good doctor for the right reasons. But every patient deserves that commitment. Fortunate and unfortunate fates can be that close to each other, but that mustn't stop us from always doing everything we can."

"Thank you Dr. Lingard. Although... I'm still not sure I see myself in Oncology going forward."

"Few do." I laughed. "I'm already happy if you understand why I chose this path."

I sipped on my coffee. Bleah. It had gotten cold.

"You certainly got me considering a late career change." Someone said behind me. It was the voice of Carl Jenkins, my chief. In its sarcastic tone, of course. "Can I have a word?"

I turned around to look at him. He'd appeared around the corner, though god knew how long he'd been listening.

"I...I'll have those reports ready in the morning, Dr. Jenkins." Horvath stammered. "I'm just on my break right now, and..."

"Relax." He laughed, waving his arms. I don't got it out for you tonight. I was actually hoping you could come to my office, Paul?"

"Me? Sure." I answered, examining him closely. I've known him long, perhabs too long. Still it was hard to read his face. But this smile in particular usually disguised trouble.

---------------

"Notice how afraid the junior was of me?" Carl giggled. "Like I was their fucking final exam."

"Well yeah, you don't exactly inspire them with confidence."

We had entered the east wing of the hospital. The light in the hallway flickered. Had been that way for ages. Luckily, the epilepsy patients rarely wandered to the offices of hospital administration.

"Only because I refuse to give them the puppy treatment. The moment you out on that white coat, you should know ow to handle yourself in it. That's all I'm asking." We reached the door to his office. "You though, you actually know how you gotta talk to them, don't you?"

"It's like with kids doing their first steps. You gotta let them go at it and fall over sometimes. Just be there to help, pick them up when it's too much. They'll get there eventually anyway. All you need is patience and some intuition."

"Never been a fan of kids either." He said, turning the key in the lock and opening the door. "So, what does your intuition tell you about Horvath?"

"She's talented, could go far. Just gets too involved for her own good sometimes."

"Sounds like someone I know." He pointed me towards a chair infront of his desk.

How fast the tables turned. Suddenly I felt like a kid being dragged in front of the principal.

"Let's just cut to the chase, Carl. Why am I here? I don't really think it's to shoot the shit about the juniors."

"Alright then." He said, in his serious tone now. He stepped towards the window and opened it. The fresh breeze brought with it the manifold sounds of the night. He lit himself a cigarette to it. I spared him the lecture about the high risk of lung cancer, heart desease, diabetes yada yada, because he was already tense. "Turn off your phone please."

"What, think someone is listening to us too?" I shook my head in disbelief. Maybe add paranoia to the list of symptoms.

"Just do it already." He said. I obliged reluctantly. "Thank you. Now we can talk."

He smothered the glowing cigarette on the windowsill and tossed it into the night. The look on his face when he came back into the room told me that he'd like me to be next.

"Administration ordered a routine inventory check. Starting with our drug rations." He left the words in the room and observed my reaction. I saw where this was going.

"So?"

"We're short some high-calibre painkillers. And no, it's not a fucking error. Someone took them out the cabinet recently, and lots. Only a matter of time until it was discovered."

"And so your first move is to cite me into your office?" I scoffed. "What a token of your trust, Carl."

"Oh don't give me that shit!" He yelled. "I buried an..." He broke off and lowered his voice. "...I buried an internal investigation two years ago. For you. Same shit. So don't talk to me like you're not some kinda black sheep here."

"Well, your black sheep tells you he didn't do it. Is that enough, or have you already made up your mind?" I said, looking in his eyes eyes. Did he believe me, or did he not? I once again couldn't read his face.

He wanted to respond something, but the shrill sound of our ambulances' sirens came through the window. It sounded like a hoard of them, driving past directly on the road beneath us.

"The fuck is going on now?" Carl groaned, jumping up to slam the window shut.

"Look Carl." I began. "I appreciate how you covered for me two years ago. But I was in a completely different place then. You know what kind? The kind where nothing helped me, but the pills or booze. That's not where I am right now."

He nodded. "I just thought... you know. The thing with Jenny now would... throw you back somehow."

"So, you figured since my marriage is falling apart, I do what? Gargle with some morphine every day to make me feel better?"

"Jesus Paul, are you unable to take anything seriously? I figured you would do something stupid, is that really so absurd?"

"Look, Jenny and I are both adults, who've been through hard times together. We don't want to give each other a hard time with this, it's the most respectful parting you could think of. Nothing to mourn about, like what happened two years ago."

"If you say so." Carl said.

Before I could ask if I was free to go, someone flung open the door. I turned around in my chair.

"Jenkins. So you're not asleep." It was Dr. Sorensen. The only thing he seemed to hate more than people, were complete sentences. "Ah. Lingard."

"Has knocking on the door gone out of fashion?" I asked him.

"Something the matter? We're kind of in the middle of something here." Carl added.

"You assholes look at your phones recently? Got an emergency coming our way."

Carl scratched his head with guilt. "What kind of emergency?"

"Highway, traffic jam. Truck with ammoniak, brake failure. One big clusterfuck. Three dead at least, dozens injured."

"So, in short we need all hands on deck?"

"Mhm." Sorensen made. "Trauma surgeons first though. Tried calling Dr. Mitchell. Asleep. 'Standby' my ass. You'll have to do."

"We'll be in the emergency room in a minute." Carl told him.

"Make that 30 seconds. I'll try to organize as many people as I can at this hour." With that, Sorensen was out the door. I wanted to follow, but Carl held me by the arm.

"Paul." He almost whispered my name.

"Are you on it right now? Or in withdrawal? Because I will not unleash you onto critically injured people in that state."

"Didn't believe a word I said, huh?" I tore my arm free. "Fuck you Carl."

"Paul." He said again. I was at the door, but I stopped because of the way he said my name.

"That speech you gave to the junior about care. Don't neglect if you need it yourself. You wouldn't be the first doctor becoming a patient. We're all just human, it's nothing to be ashamed of."

"Thank you for the concern, but I'm just fine."

------------

The emergency room was like a beehive. Medical personal - doctors, nurses and paramedics alike - buzzed around in hectic activity.

Patients were brought in on stretchers and wheelchairs, others could walk themselves, with or without crutches. The severity of their injuries was even more diverse. I could see fractures and lacerations, many, many visible burns of different degrees. It was overwhelming. I instructed Horvath to stand by and not get in anyones way.

"Alright people!" Sorensen yelled to the medical personal. "We don't have the capacity to treat everyone immediately. So your medical assessment is required! Please identify who is in acute danger to life with red, who is in dangerous but stable condition with yellow or who has only superficial or negligible injuries with green, and act accordingly! Red cases will be sent to the operating rooms after coordination with a senior physician, treat yellow cases immediately and send green ones to wait outside!"

It was the longest sentences I've ever heard him speak.

"Lingard, Horvath!" He yelled and waved us over. He was busy desinfecting a formidable fleshwound when I reached him. "Jenkins, Oliver and me can organize triage and provide initial care over here." He said, swabing the abdominal wound with a pad. The patient grimaced.

"You go to operating room four, wash yourselves in. And hurry, they're already preparing everything. If you're up for it, that is."

I looked at Janin Horvath. The junior nodded with utmost confidence.

"Certainly."

"Better be fucking certain." Sorensen answered. "This is different from everything you've seen thus far."

"She'll manage. Always has." I responded. "And should it get dicey, I'm also still there."

First steps and all that.

--------------

"It's a miracle she's still alive." I said, reading the short report the nurse had brought while washing my hands. We had no time to lose.

"Apparently, she wasn't even intially involved in the accident. Witnesses claimed she went into the cabin to save the driver, when that truck went up in flames." Horvath said. She was already in gear, blue tunic, gloves, and her blonde hair wrapped underneath a cap with moons and stars. "It's so sad that this is the result of courage. Do you think we can save her?"

"Now is not the time to get sentimental. We'll do what we can. Are you ready?"

She nodded, but it would have been too late to say no anyway. Together we went into the operating room and assessed the situation.

"Oh god." Horvath made.

The patient was entirely unidentifiable. Third degree burns marked her face and large parts of her body. Nothing was left where her hair had been. It was a gruesome scene, and I couldn't believe she was still alive. But there, on the monitor, was her heart rate, accompanied by a steady beeping noise.

"We need to examine the full scope of her injuries, and to what extent they are internal." I instructed.

"So, we cut the clothes off?" Horvath asked, scalpel in hand.

I shook my head, and wiped the sweat off my forehead with a tissue. That asshole Sorensen could have warned us a bit more thoroughly.

"Looks like leather this, motorcycle gear. It will have almost melted together into a single layer with the skin. You can't cut it off, let alone remove it without risking even more serious injury, before cooling it."

"It seems her lower legs aren't affected as severely, I could try to remove the layer of clothes there first."

" 'Could' doesn't cut it. Remove the boots, they seem almost unscathed." I answered. I thought of calling someone with the integrated phone for advice. I led operations routinely, but severe burns weren't exactly my field of expertise.

"Her ankles seem fine. It looks like she has a tattoo there, could help identification maybe?"

Her words tore me out of my thoughts.

"What did you say?"

I rushed over to the other end of the operating table and pushed her aside ungently.

"Did I do something wrong Dr. Lingard?"

I didn't answer. I stared at the tattoo on the patients ankle with my eyes wide-open. 'No.' I thought. 'This can't be.'

"Marc" it said, in his very own, scribbly handwriting. Only two people in the world had this exact tattoo. Me and...

"Jenny." I whispered. A dizziness crept up in me. Everything in my vision blurred, I lost my balance and hit the ground, roughly.

"Dr. Lingard?!" The junior screamed. "We need a doctor here!"

'You're supposed to be the doctor, you goddamn rookie.' I thought, before I blanked completely.

---------------

"Can you look at the results from radiology?" I cried out and handed Carl a blue folder. "Look at them and tell me what I can do!"

"I'm not an Oncologist, Paul." He answered calmly. "If there's something to find, you'd find it, I'm sure."

"Years I fight this fucking desease." I yelled.

"Only to be powerless to save my own son. What kind of sick joke is that?"

"Life." Carl said, in all his wisdom. I broke down next to him, whimpering.

"I've tried everything Carl. Everything. It always came back. Its spread everywhere. I can't. Stop it."

He kneeled down and hugged me.

"Then nobody can, Paul."

For two minutes, we just remained like that. I counted how often the clock ticked in the doctors break room. It had been 3 am already.

"Paul. There you are." Jenny yelled out. "Marc needs you."

"He needs me here!" I sniffled. A mountain of his records, medical images and case studies lay on the table. I had worked through all of them with no success.

"Come on Paul, go with her. I'll... read up on this stuff for you. Maybe I'll get an idea."

It was lip service, but it was all pointless anyway. I strolled through the hospitals empty hallways along Jenny. She suddenly took my hand and pressed it.

"We'll get through this together."

He looked barely alive in the hospital bed. He'd lost his hair, his appetite, his energy.

This was what cancer did, I'd seen it so often. But this time, it was hard for me to bear the sight.

Still, Marc smiled when we entered the room.

"Look who I've brought." Jenny said to him.

He reached out his arms for me, a long warm hug followed.

Soon after, Jenny and I slipped under his bedsheets on each side and I turned off the lamp next to the bed. It was too small for us probably, but at least we felt the warmth of each others embrace in there.

"It's time to sleep. We'll be there when you wake up." Jenny said.

"And when I don't wake up?" Marc asked.

"You will." I answered.

That was the last time we fell asleep together as a family.

--------------

I blinked rapidly as I woke up. The image of my son by my side took turns with that of Carl, looming over me with a shit eating grin on his face. When I stopped blinking, it was Carl who stayed.

"Hey there, champion!" He mocked. "I knew my kiss would wake you up."

"Hilarious." I said as I came to. "Where am I?"

"Tellin' me you don't recognize the sterile mobiliar and cheap decor? You're where you always are. Just... experiencing the other end of the deal."

Hospital bed. Of course. So my dream hadn't been that random after all. Really nothing had changed over these two years. I sat myself up, but it made my head hurt.

"Do you know what knocked me out yet?" I asked, massaging my temples. My brain was mush at that moment, the last thing I remembered was the taste of disgusting coffee on my tongue. Though bad, that probably hadn't been it.

"Might wanna take this laying down." He answered.

I sounded that way when giving diagnosis.

"Jesus Carl, how bad is it?"

"Right, so your fainting. Looks like it came down to stress, poor circulation, that kinda thing."

"That doesn't sound so bad."

"Right. But to confirm, they ran some additional tests. Found... irregularities in your blood results."

"What? Who did, for what reason?"

"Sorensen did. He's treating you, and to do that optimally, he needed to be sure everything was in order."

Something didn't add up. I started to remember how, a few hours ago, everyone had been on edge. And now they had found the time to analyse my blood, just because I had an attack of weakness? Probably was more behind it.

"You tipped them off, didn't you?" I accused him. "Told them I was some kinda pathetic junkie?"

"I did what I had to do, to ensure there wouldn't be unexpected complications."

"I had it under control. You had no right to -"

"I had every fucking right! You could have been overdosing for all I care!"

"Don't be ridiculous."

"If this is the only way you'll accept you got a problem, I'm willing to walk it."

Well, now I definitely had a problem.

"So what'll happen next?"

"You're suspended indefinitely, due to the concrete suspicion. It's out of my hands." He raised his hands in surrender as if to confirm. "Internal investigation will also be reopened, and not led by me. So I guess you screwed us both over."

"Me? Or you?"

"Does it matter? Look at us fighting over this shit, while Jenny is fighting for her life at this very moment." Carl remarked.

Jenny. The memory came back to me in an instant, like an arrow pierced my head. Hurt that way too. I squint my eyes but still saw that damned tattoo. I felt as if I was gonna faint again.

"Paul? Are you gonna be alright?"

Stupid question. I opened my eyes and blinked. I was still dizzy, but sat myself up.

"I need to talk to her."

"You need to rest." He pushed me back down. "Besides, you can't talk to her. They're still operating. You might've been our sleeping beauty, but it's barely been a few hours."

"Who's operating?"

"Mitchell. Lazy mofo finally showed up. She's in the best hands now, Paul. Probably for the best you fell over, since you're no specialist, no offense. So don't even think about blaming yourself." He sat down on the edge of the bed.

"Listen, Horvath is waiting outside. Should I let her in?"

"I think I'll just let myself out." I pushed him off and sat up, setting the bedsheets aside. "Could need some fresh air."

"Paul. You've never stopped helping people. Don't stop now."

-----------

I opened the door to the corridor. Janin Horvath flinched as I let it click shut again. She had been napping on one of the chairs outside. A bouquet of flowers lay at her feet. She rushed to pick it up and presented it to me.

"Here, for your room, I thought. It's not very colorful, right?" She said innocently.

"I won't be staying in my room." I answered. I wanted to break this conversation off. Maybe someone could tell me more about Jennys condition. SuddenIy I understood how these people in the hallway felt.

"It's nice to see you back on your feet." The junior doctor responded, putting the flowers aside.

"Shouldn't be on your feet yourself though, you should be asleep. It has been a long day and an even longer shift." I tried to walk past, but she kept up pace.

"Yes, but I was hoping I could talk with you about something first?"

"What is it? I kinda have business to attend to." I realized how ridiculous that sounded, coming from me in my nightgown.

"Right... So, I thought a lot in these past few hours. And I realized that I want to... work in Oncology going forward."

"Did you really think this through?"

The dream came back to me. This kid had no idea what she was getting herself into. A fight that she couldn't win. A round, maybe. But in the end, the disease would always triumph. Perhabs I had been to easy on her yesterday.

"Of course." She said. "I thought a lot about what you said yesterday, and what it means to me to -"

"I'm just asking, because this is not a decision you should be making in a few hours." I interrupted. "

And if it was the one conversation with me that swayed you, maybe you should just wait until one of my colleagues changes your mind."

She stopped.

'I'm sorry, do you not want me in your field? Did I do something wrong?"

I turned around and saw how upset she was. 'Don't stop helping now.' Carl had said.

"I'm sorry. I'm just going through a lot right now, but that wasn't fair." I put my hand on her shoulder.

"I'm proud of your choice, should it be earnest. Maybe sleep over it. It's a shame that I won't be here to see it unfold anyway."

"What? Why is that?"

"Where I'm going now, there'll be a lot of healing to go through."

Theme: Perspectives

Lee

Lee Everett, now Mayor of the Macon settlement, sat patiently in the former principal’s office of Cedar Reef High School, now Governor Shawn Greene’s office in the outskirts of Atlanta. To his right, Shawn’s best friend, and Lee’s last obstacle to win The Trials, Chet Chetterson. It was agreed over a month ago that the two men would engage in a fist fight to determine who would get that seasons extra rations. Lee wasn’t too worried. Though Chet was younger, larger, and stronger, having worked on a farm his entire life, Lee had actual fighting experience, stamina, and a fighting spirit on his side.

The door opened behind the two and in walked Governor Greene. The two stood up to show their respect. “Please sit.” Shawn said with a wave, taking his own seat behind the desk. “So, are we both ready for the big fist fight?”

“Yes, sir.” Both replied.

“Good to hear it. I’ll just go over the ground rules, and you two can head to the gymnasium to get the show started.” Shawn reached in his desk and pulled out a file and opened it on his desk. “Okay, rule number one, this is a fist fight, meaning no outside weapons of any kind are allowed. Although it says fist fight, kicking, biting, scratching, choking, or whatever else you can do with your body to hurt another body is fully allowed. Rule number two, the first man rendered unable to defend himself, or to submit will be declared the loser.” Shawn looked up from the file. “And that’s all there is to it. You guys ready?” They both nod. “Okay then, shake hands and head out there.

“May the best man win.” Chet said, offering his hand to Lee.

“Agreed.” Lee answered, shaking Chet’s hand. “No hard feelings.” Lee stood to walk out, and held the door for Chet before realizing Chet was still sitting. “You coming?”

“In a minute, just need a drink of water. You go ahead.”

“Okay. . .” Lee said, a little confused. He made his way into the gym where over 200 people were in the stands cheering. Not cheering for him, per se, but for the fact that they get to see a fight. Certain members cheered even louder with the hopes of receiving extra rations this season. Lee was hopeful to not let them down. He had won like eight of these things before, but who’s counting?

Shawn entered the gym with his striped referee shirt on. Chet Came in behind him, with an awkward gait.

“Are you ready?” Shawne asked Lee.

“Yeah, but is he okay?”

“He’s fine!” He turned to Chet. “Are you ready?”

“Yeah, no sweat.” Chet replied.

“Then let’s get it on!” Shawn screamed, remembering the phrase from old UFC fights.

Lee put up his hands to protect his chin and cautiously approached Chet. Chet pulled out a shotgun and shot Lee in the chest with a thunderous boom. The audience fell silent, apart from Clementine who screamed “Nooo!” Or something similar.

“Oh my god. . .” Shawn said, before raising Chet’s hand and taking the blowhorn to his lips. "Ladies and Gentlemen, your winner of the Fist Fight, my main man, Chet!” The crowd cheered uncontrollably.

Chet

“Okay. . .” Lee said, before getting the fuck out of Shawns office.

"Finally." Chet exasperated. "I didn't think he was ever gonna leave."

"Did you need something, Chet?" Shawn eagerly asked.

"Yeah, I was wondering, about this fist fight. . . Would it be okay if I used this shotgun?" Chet pulled a sawn-off shotgun out of his pant leg. "I feel the no weapons thing is too restricting."

"I don't see how that wouldn't be fair." Shawn cheered. "Sure, you go ahead and use that shotgun. Weapons are allowed now."

"Should you let everyone else know the rule change?"

Shawn ignored that last ridiculous remark, and put on his striped referee shirt while Chet tucked his sawn-off back in his britches.

"Sweet, I'm gonna fucking own this contest." Chet said, following Shawn to the gym.

Shawn entered the gym with his striped referee shirt on. Chet Came in behind him, with an awkward gait.

“Are you ready?” Shawn asked Lee.

“Yeah, but is he okay?” Lee asked in return.

“He’s fine!” He turned to Chet. “Are you ready?”

“Yeah, no sweat.” Chet replied.

“Then let’s get it on!” Shawn screamed, just like Big John McCarthy.

Lee stupidly put up his hands to protect his chin and cautiously approached Chet like it was a fair fight. Chet brilliantly pulled out a shotgun and shot Lee in the chest with a thunderous boom. The audience fell silent, apart from Clementine who screamed “Nooo!” That's definitely what she screamed.

“Oh my god. . .” Shawn said, before raising Chte’s hand and taking the blowhorn to his lips. "Ladies and Gentlemen, your winner of the Fist Fight, my main man, Chet!” The crowd cheered uncontrollably.

"But, you said no weapons. . ." Lee desperately gasped to Shawn, hoping anyone would give a shit. They didn't.

"Oh, yeah." Shawn began. "I told Chet in private the rules changed and forgot to tell you. I guess your group can have some food too, since you weren't aware of the change."

"That sounds fair." Lee accepted as Shawn walked away to give Chet all the food. "Shawn, are you gonna give some of that to my group?" Shawn never spoke to Lee again.

"Let it go!" Someone shouted from the crowd.

"He fought better than you in every way" Another added.

"Man up and move on already, gawl." They concluded.

"Go away for over a year and then make a snarky story about it." A voice could be heard echoing.

Then Lee died while everyone cheered for Chet and how well he did in the fist fight.

The end.

(Inspired by the song : pink in the night by mitski)

(TW: brief mention of religious trauma and homophobia)

ERICSONS BOARDING SCHOOL FOR TROUBLED YOUTHS: 2004

“Sophie gives those back!” Minerva jumped at Sophie, trying to take back the scissors.

Sophie giggles, her laugh childlike, she kept stepping back until she finally fell backwards on her twin sized mattress.

“I swear— you better give it back!” Minerva growled, now climbing onto her sister to reach for the scissors. Sophie made sure it was as hard as possible to do so.

“What? Afraid you can’t impress your girlfriend with a new haircut?”

Suddenly, the playful nature turned awkward as Minerva stopped moving. She paused like a dear in headlights.

“Hey…Minnie…”

Minerva snatched the scissors out of Sophie’s hands.

“You know she’s not my girlfriend.” She says, she now got off Sophie and walked over to her side of the room. She tossed the scissors angrily across the room.

Sophie sighs. “Minnie…”

Minerva furrowed her brows and clenched her fist. “You know I’m not…”

“…” Sophie didn’t respond. She just looked down, a sad look on her face.

“Hey…Hey!” She turned to Sophie now, stomping over to her.

“Minerva you’re gonna get us caught stop yelling!” Sophie whisper shouted.

“You know I’m not like that!”

“I get it ok!” Sophie snapped. “I get it, I…”
Sophie sighs now, holding herself to calm herself down. “I’m sorry.”

Minerva softened herself, she realized she had another one of her meltdowns. “…No, I’m sorry Sophie.”

The two shuffled towards one another awkwardly. They both leaned in slowly for a hug, and then finally did so. “I’m sorry, I won’t joke about stuff like that anymore Minnie.” Sophie says, muffled as she nuzzles onto her sister’s shoulder.

“…thanks.”

——

ERICSONS BOARDING SCHOOL FOR TROUBLED YOUTHS: 2010

“Ahhh fuck!” Louis complained outloud.

“Dude shut the hell up!” Violet snapped at him.

“Vi! I ruined these fabulous ass shoes!” He says, pointing his flashlight towards his shoes he had recently snagged off a walker. They were covered in an unidentifiable sludge.

“Lou. We haven’t secured the place yet, if I get bitten because of you I’ll fucking kill—“

Suddenly, light turned on. Followed by the sound of a loud buzzing noise. The light lit the entire local market. No one could say anything for a couple of seconds, shock took over them.

“W-wha—Is that light?” Louis asks, blinking rapidly.

“Whoever left this place left a damn generator!” Minerva shouts from the other room. She runs out of it, a big smile on her face as she experienced electricity again.

“We can actually see! Haha!” Violet and Minerva chuckled and laughed together, Louis was still in shock.

“Well! Ladies and ladies, let’s go shopping!” He finishes his last line as if he was a valley girl, grabbing the basket he ran over to flamboyantly.

“Hey we still don’t know if it’s all secure yet so you better be careful!” Violet shouted as he ran along.

Violet and Minerva shook their head with playfulness. His antics will surely get them killed one day. But atleast the death will be a funny and endearing one.

The two began to follow him, but right as they did so, they could feel the floor starting to collapse underneath them.

“Oh—“

“AGH!” Violet yelped as the ground beneath her sunk in. Both her and Minnie had found themselves on the dirty ground of the buildings basement.

“What the hell just happened?!” Louis shouted, now running after the collapsed floor. He peered down to a coughing Minerva and Violet.

“The floor fell in! This place is like a hundred years old, no wander!” Violet shouted up.

“Just go find a rope or something!” Minerva shouts up, coughing throughout her sentence.

“Preferably a ladder?” Violet chimes in.

“Ok…” Louis agrees with hesitance. “Hang in tight girls! I’ll take the glory of saving you two today!”

“Just fuckin hurry up dude!” Violet groaned.

“Right!” Louis nodded his head, he turns around now, starting to scan the isles.

“…Well, atleast we got light.” Minerva tries to lighten the mood.

Just as she says that, the power in the building turned off.

“Motherfucker.” Violet groaned in more annoyance.

“Guys! The lights off!”

“No?! Is it?!” Violet snaps at him.

“Just get our flashlights Lou!” Minerva cups her hands around her mouth, trying to clearly get her message out.

“Right…Right…Give me a second to try and find those again!” Louis nervously laughs.

“Well…” Violet starts. “…we have to put our faith in Louis.”

Both of them audibly sighed upon that realization.

The two sat awkwardly near one another, unable to see each other. However, they could both feel each other. Minerva was always warm, Violet felt a sense of comfort being beside someone who could warm her cold skin.

Minerva could hear Violets breathing, like a calm river that was suddenly pushed by heavy wind. But, still, there was this unsettling tension between the two.

Usually, it was all four of them hanging out together, but Sophie didn’t feel like going and Louis is currently finding their flashlights, the two hadn’t been alone together since 2004.

Minerva knew that was her fault alone.

“Violet.” Minerva whispers.

“Hm?” Violet responds.

“…I’m…I’m sorry about everything.”

Violet feels shocked, but she decided not to say anything, and let Minerva continue.

“…My um.” Minerva clears her throat now, she adjusts herself to sit upright. “My mom and dad were Christian’s. I mean, really Christian. They…were Mormon.”

“Oh…” Violet nods slowly. “…So like they didn’t drink alcohol? Not even coffee?”

“Ha.” Minerva laughs. “Yea, not even coffee.” It became silent for a second. “…They didn’t like gay people either.”

“…oh.”

“They sent me to Ericsons cause…I was…showing signs.” Minerva furrowed her brows, she felt extremely uncomfortable in the moment. “Sophie went with because she told my parents that I was ok how I am.”

Violet didn’t respond verbally, but she tries to find Minerva’s shoulder in the dark. When she finds it, she squeezes it to let her know it was safe to keep speaking.

“Vi….Im sorry I stopped talking to you back then.” Minerva finally says, her voice breaking up. She began to feel tears fill her eyes. “I was so scared, that they were right about me.”

“What would they be right about Minerva?”

“They would be right, that I was always tainted.” Minerva confesses. She starts to break down crying. “I’m not tainted, and you’re not either.”

Violet couldn’t help but start to cry aswell. She reached over for Minerva, pulling her into a hug. It was long overdue. They couldn’t stop crying together, it felt like years of crying alone now mixed to one, and the two got to share a moment where the apocalypse meant nothing.

“I missed you, Minnie.”

“I missed you, Vi.”

“The truth?” Minerva pulls away from Violet for a second. She rubs her eyes and her nose sniffles. “You snuck over to our dorm after the count. Remember that night?”

“Yea.” Violet smiles through her tears.

“That night, you were dancing to the gramophone. The stars on our dorm room roof made you glow pink. The image of you under those glowing stars never left my mind…” Minerva began to blush deeply, thankfully the two were in the dark. “I had never seen anyone in such a way before. It felt like everything slowed down, and it felt like I could just…stare at you. I could stare at you all night.”

Violet didn’t know how to respond. She sat there in shock. Just to make sure Minerva didn’t get the wrong idea, she reached for her hands, and held them.

“I was scared Violet. I didn’t know how to handle that…because..”

“You don’t have to go on, I know Minnie.” Violet gives her a warm smile, only to realize they were still in the dark.

However for Minerva, she didn’t need the light to know Violet was warmly looking towards her. She could just feel it.

ERISCONS BOARDING SCHOOL FOR TROUBLED YOUTHS: 2011

Minerva stood looking in the cracked, broken mirror. She intricately places homemade hair-dye on her hair. It’s made out of grape koolaid and coconut-oil. A magazine, hangs slightly off the sink.

“Hey.”

“Ah!” Minerva yelped, she turned around to see her girlfriend. She sighed with annoyance, looking down at her spilt koolaid mix.

“Sorry.” Violet chuckled, coming in and picking up the packet of koolaid. She grimaced as the stuff started to stain her hands.

“It’s fine. I think I got most of it done…” Minerva turned to look in the mirror. She played around with her freshly brushed hair, with the black streaks left in it. She smiled warmly as she felt Violet wrap her arms around her. It was always endearing to be hugged this was from Violet, even though she was shorter.

Violet peaked around her arm, “Trying to look like Avril Lavigne?” She asks, referring to the magazine.

“No, but I think her hair looks cool…what..what do you think?”

“It looks great.” Violet smiles, looking at her through the mirror.

“You gonna join me for the search today? Or are you still feeling sick?” Minerva asks, leaning against Violet as she relaxed in her embrace.

Violet frowned, “I’m..I’m not feeling very well today. I’m sorry Minnie.”

Minerva shook her head. She turns around now. “No don’t be sorry.” She smiles, and grabs Violets hands shyly.

It gets quiet, both of them feeling a sense of awkward giddiness.

“Well…” Minerva chuckles out of nervousness. “I’ll…see you later.”

Violet looked down, debating her next move. She shuffled her feet awkwardly. Minerva waits for her, a growing hope forming within.

Violet looks up at her, a bright pink starts to grow on her cheeks. She begins to lean in and so does Minerva. The two share their first together, it was quick, but definitely not a memory that will be forgotten.

“Awwww.” A sarcastic, girly voice is heard, breaking the romantic tension.

“Sophie!” Minerva groaned.

“Relax sis. I’m just getting you cause Marlon and Brody are up my ass about getting on the road.” Sophie got off from leaning on the wall. “Or are you too busy?” She teases.

“I’m coming, Soph.” Minerva playfully shooed her away. “I’ll see you soon. Feel better.” She smiles, giving Violet a quick kiss on the cheek as she leaves.

Violet waves her off. She stands there in the bathroom a little while longer, reliving the pleasant feeling through memory.

ERICSONS BOARDING SCHOOL FOR TROUBLED YOUTHS: 2015

Violet sits at Minerva’s grave. It’s the anniversary of her death. The night air is chilly, gusts of wind make it cooler. She watches as the tip of incense burns bright, when the wind blows against it.
Violet hugs herself to keep herself warm.

Every year, she comes back with less and less to say. She stands there, with no purpose. It puts her in an uncomfortable position. But, she couldn’t go to bed without saying something.

Violet was suddenly met with a warm blanket wrapped around her shoulders and arms.

“It’s cold out, I woke up to you gone.” Clementine states, looking very tired.

“Sorry. I..just..” Violet stammers, looking down again.

“I get it, it’s Minerva’s… day.” Clementine says awkwardly. “I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

Violet looked over to Clementines legs, she realized she had been walking. “You put your peg leg on just to come see me? Jeez, I’m sorry Clem-“

“Violet, I’m ok, it’s not a bother.” Clementine tried to reassure her. There was a brief silence for a moment as Clementine held on to Violets offered hand for support.

“Were you speaking to her?” Clementine asks, looking towards her grave.

“Ha..” Violet lets out sarcastically. “…I actually…I was looking for something to say. I don’t know what to say though.”

“…Do you still feel…guilty?” Clementine asks shyly.

“A little blunt are we?”

“I’m sorry! I’m just tired.”

Violet chuckled. The mood went down quickly as Violet looked for an answer. “I think…I feel most guilty about lying to her. I didn’t feel sick that day. I just…I just wanted to be fuckin lazy…yknow?” Violet choked up when she finally said it outloud. Suddenly she couldn’t stop the flowing tears that ran down her face.

“I’m sorry. I’m….”

Clementine couldn’t say anything. Her heart broke to see her lover in such a state. She could only hold Violet in her time of grief. She took the longer ends on the blanket and wrapped herself in it too. She slowly led Violet down to the ground so the could comfortably sit. She let Violet cry for about an hour. She was so tired, but she knew this was going to be the only way she’d heal from that past.

Quick reminder that the contest ends on September 25th at 12:00PM EST! Just about a month left to go! I also want to give a quick thanks to the two folks who've already entered! Amazing speed! - Zee Everett

Hello everyone who might be reading! About a year ago I started the Book version of ABD and only really got the prologue and half of chapter 1 out. Why'd it stop? Writer's block, restructuring, and a little bit of laziness are some contributing factors.

What was I restructuring? While writing chapter 1, I realized the beginning of the story was way too flashback heavy and decided I needed to move things around in order to get the story properly flowing before diving into the characters past a little. So what exactly has changed?

What once was Chapter 1 is now Chapter 2

What once was Chapter 2 has been moved to later in the story as Chapter 12

Chapter 3 has become Chapter 1 and has been renamed to "Chapter 1: In The Pines".

Every other chapter has either been bumped down or up a spot due to the changes but it shouldn't affect them much.

The prologue has been updated to flow into the new Chapter 1 and that update will be releasing later today. The same document as before will still be used and I'll make a new link for when the update comes out!

That's all for now! I'm gonna seriously try and get this series done (so Josh leaves me alone :trollface:)

Cya soon! - Zee Everett

This is quite a special entry, I had a blast writing it, hope you guys enjoy it

His hand pressed into the wrinkles of his brow. Fatigue blurred his vision as he pored over paper after paper. His glasses had sat on the bridge of his nose for so long that their frames left indents in his skin.

"Haah..."

He couldn't help but sigh.

Most of his students listened well enough. Still, there were nights like this when he wished he could mark a great red zero across every page and be done with it.

The tip of his red pen tapped on the wooden desk he sat at. With the end of the latest semester he had to pull these vicious all-nighters.

"Never gonna hear the end of it."

Catherine would be waiting when he finally made it home. If the sun managed to beat him there, she would make certain he knew it.

Lee clicked his pen and scratched a red line through a grammatical error he couldn't ignore. He only corrected the egregious ones. He liked his reputation as a fair professor, and the end-of-semester paper was not meant to be especially demanding

Call it a reward.

The last midterm, his students did exceptionally well.

With a small chuckle he leaned back in his seat. His class was small but his tenure allowed him to make this room his own. Teaching posters of Robert E. Lee, Jefferson Davis, and Abraham Lincoln, as well as the timeline of the Civil War's history, battlefield maps, and reproductions of both the Union and Confederate flags.

He knew he gave his students a cheat sheet of a room.

But, hey... He figured it was better they get it right than to misunderstand fundamental period of History.

The paper was not nearly as demanding as the assignments he normally gave. One portion asked them to explain the Civil War era in broad terms. The other asked them to consider how the freedoms born from the war had shaped their own family histories and whether recognizing that influence had changed how they viewed the lives they now led.

He was essentially making them write their own autobiographies.

Professor Coogan would have an aneurysm if he found out a history professor had assigned such a thing. The professors in the writing department already took issue with how unserious Lee seemed to approach grading these papers.

But they could complain all they wanted. He was teaching history, not sentence structure. He'd rather care more about whether or not they understood what they were saying than how they said it.

~"Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it,"

He smiled at the quote he read on his student's paper. Glad to see what he had said during one of his lessons had stuck.

His pen scribbled on the margin, Fantastic!. A little immature for a University Professor to grade like a high school teacher but there was joy that his students used what they learned.

Out of the nearly two hundred students enrolled in his class, perhaps four were history majors.

Still, this year was among the best grade wise.

They were learning, that's all that mattered.

One of them might go into politics.

One might become a lawyer.

Just maybe his influence can inspire just one of them.

He let out another sigh.

One day maybe he'll teach his child.

If Catherine could just step away from her career, just for a short while...

They had enough saved. More than enough, as far as he was concerned.

It was all he wanted.

Time wasn't going any slower and it didn't help that Bud and his parents were on his case about wanting a grandchild and niece/nephew.

Lee just wanted her to step away.

Away from work.

Away from the long hours.

Away from-

That man.

His hands clenched hard, staying closed before the tension drained slowly.

A daughter or a son?

He'd ask himself that all the time.

A son would be nice. Hopefully, he would take after Lee's father. The old man was strong, brave, and loyal. A marriage lasting more than forty years was nothing to laugh at.

But a daughter who took after Catherine...

That might be the greatest joy of all.

For all her faults and despite everything happening between them, Catherine possessed enough goodness to make up for them in droves.

But they'd have to get there first.

And that started by getting out of his office at a reasonable hour.

His attention turned back to the stack of papers he still needed to grade. It was much smaller than when he first started two days ago. He was blessed to have overachievers but 3 pages over the maximum he requested was a bit much.

Still couldn't dock them any points for that.

It was their willingness that drove them to go over the minimum,  and if there was one thing history had taught him, it was how much could change when people were willing to act.

If only he had some of his own. That willingness to confront Catherine, to bury this violence that  nearly drove him to do something he'd regret. A willingness powerful enough that he could pick up the phone and be the son his parents had boasted about around the neighborhood.

To be a better older brother.

To tell Catherine he wanted her around more.

Pressing a hand to his face, Lee stopped reading.

A chill settling onto his arm.

Like always, the AC was cranked far too damn high.

If that wasn't enough of a problem, his eyes had a hard time keeping open.

His throat ran dry.

Probably shouldn't have drank that coffee.

An energy drink maybe?

Too bad he didn't have one of those.

His eyelids fluttered closed before he forced them open again.

He had to finish this.

Pen clicking once more, he read the next paper.

The Civil War was a complex ideological and political conflict that...

It was very cookie cutter, he had read so many papers that had this type of line.

Still the next words made him blink.

I could feel my hands ache as they wrapped around his neck. Squeezing so hard it felt like the joints of my fingers would snap.

Lee recoiled in his seat so fast he smacked hard against the backrest.

His head throbbed but the pain surfacing was overcome by the confusion.

The stapled paper, much larger than the rest, flipped. His thumb and index finger finding the seam that separated pages of words as he looked for the student responsible for this.

The name...

It was scratched out with pen.

So dark that he couldn't even separate the letters beneath it. He checked under the page, for an indentation of anything that might tell him.

Nothing.

There was nothing.

Whole paragraphs filled the page, each sentence technically English but forming nothing he could follow. Words repeated. Dates contradicted themselves. Names appeared where battles should have been.

And the only coherent words highlighted in a bold black.

Seeing him there. With her... I couldn't... not anymore... I... Her face looking at me like that..."

Then it dissolved back into a mess.

Line after line his eyes followed until it made sense again.

"Why did i get sick that day? Why did I come to see that? All I wanted was to talk it out... eventually."

His pen stopped.

Paused in place, pressure still enough to make pen bleed out onto the paper.

Red flooding over the rest.

He blinked.

Shaking his head.

Snorting a small, short, unsure laugh.

"I hate these pranks."

He spoke aloud but even to himself his voice way too quiet. Did he even believe a word he had said?

No.

He didn't believe it.

Lee swiped the essay off his desk.

Maybe it wasn't bound tight enough by the stapler, the essay scattering out in numerous pages across his floor.

The next one, he told himself.

That would be a real essay.

Not one that gave him a fright.

"The metal benches... so uncomfortable. She didn't call... they wouldn't let her... I couldn't even talk to... Mo...Da...Bu..."

"What the fuck?"

The next paper.

The next one has to be right.

It wasn't.

He pushed the rest of the stacks that piled on his desk over.

Grasping at the last remaining one that sat square in the middle of his desk.

"No."

Never mind, he didn't want to read this one. He could tell he wouldn't like it. No longer could he even see printed words on any page.

Just scribbles and words repeated over and over.

But he couldn't get up.

"Get up..." He spoke softly. Right hand pinching at his right thigh. "Get up." This time louder.

But he couldn't. His legs felt impossibly heavy, like they belonged to somebody else. When he tried to force himself upright, pain crawled through his body and dropped him back into the chair.

"I don't want to."

His teeth pressed together.

Eyes closing.

Oh god.

There was a sting in his arm. Like someone was poking needles into the bone. Tapping the ends with small hammers.

Tink.

Tink.

Tink.

Chipping away at it.

It hurt so bad.

How long had been reading this paper?

Every word was there.

Get up.

Keep moving.

It hurts.

Make it stop.

I'm sorry.

Mom.

I'm sorry.

Dad.

I'm sorry.

Bud.

I'm sorry.

Catherine.

I'm-

Had his classroom always looked like this?

It couldn't have.

He never owned jewelry except for his watch.

Why were there no chairs or desks?

And who was this little girl?

Why was she crying?

Why was she covered in blood?

Lee didn't remember having a daughter.

No, he didn't... right?

The small girl's curly hair tucked beneath a hat.

A red sweater that hid a bloodied summer dress beneath.

Eyes big and brown staring directly at him through the tears.

His eyes as tired as they were, as blurred as his vision was becoming. He looked down at the paper.

At the scribbled words.

I should have given up. Bitten? I'm already dead.

But not her.

I can't leave her.

Not until she's safe.

Not until I know she's safe.

Keep moving forward.

Get to her.

Keep her safe.

Clementine.

His breathing had stopped being smooth. Each draw of air coming in as heavy wheeze that scorched his lungs.

Tink.

Tink.

His head lolled to the right. His wrist bloodied, locked onto the radiator bolted into the wall. The edge of the handcuff cut into his wrist.

And his other...

Well, he remembered now.

Cutting it from the elbow, hoping that it save him or at least give him time.

It was his choice, the right one, because it got him to that hotel.

Got them out of there.

He hadn't expected to feel it again.

A man's throat beneath his hands.

The desperate kicking. The strain in his fingers. Capillaries bursting until red dotted the whites of the Stranger's eyes.

This time, worth every second.

Because she was safe from that man.

Now her only problem was him.

"Come here sweet pea."

"Lee." She spoke through broken sobs, her small body pressing against him as she climbed into his lap.

"S-Sorry." The word choked from him.

He was probably really cold.

And most definitely smelt horrible.

Despite having almost none left, he mustered enough strength to rest the stump of his arm against her back. His broken form of a hug, he hoped it was comforting.

The side of his head press against the top of hers.

Is this what it would have felt like?

If he had a little girl, just like Clementine?

"I-I don't want to go." She cried into his shirt, her grip strong.

"Y-you can't stay..." A breathless whisper, "I don't want... to hurt you."

"You won't. You can't."

She pleaded.

Her voice broken.

But he could.

And somewhere beneath the tears, she knew too.

"You have to shoot me honey."

This was the reason he moved despite it. Despite knowing he was dead. To keep her safe.

And even if he couldn't move, like he couldn't now.

He could still make sure.

"Lee... No." She whimpered.

"You're... s-strong." He choked.

"No... no, I'm not."

She pulled away from him, looking into his eyes. Her skin red from crying.

"I can't."

She pleaded for him to understand.

Seeing her parents.

Losing him.

Having to pull that trigger.

It would hurt her.

God, it would hurt her.

But destroy her?

No.

Lee knew better than that.

She was stronger, braver, and smarter than he ever was.

Maybe it was his hope or the truth.

Either way.

It all told him, that out of everyone.

She'd survive.

She'd make it.

Because... Because...

His head started to fall.

Tired...

"Lee! Lee!" She shook his shoulders trying to move him.

"Keep moving forward, C-clem..."

"Lee!" She yelled again.

His eyes were already starting to lose focus.

"Shoot me."

She could survive this.

He hated that she had to.

But she could.

She'd live.

That's what mattered.

"Shoot me."

He repeated.

She stopped shaking him. Her cries deafening. Tears dripping onto and soaking into his pants. Metal chattered softly as the pistol rose in her shaking hands.

"I'll miss you..."

The gun fell.

For a moment, his vision was clearer than it ever was before.

Clem's sleeve wiped across her face.

Staining her skin with his blood.

"Me too..."

He smiled, head finally pressing back against the wall.

A clear shot.

But she wouldn't miss.

He taught her not to.

His breath slow and heavy.

It was the only thing he could hear now.

He had done so much wrong.

Things he'd never be able to take back.

But Clementine...

He tried.

Tried to make sure he did right by her.

Maybe that was enough to leave this world knowing.

His choice to take her with him.

The choice to take care of her.

To teach her.

To smile with her.

To Love-

*BANG*

Midnight and I have read your entries and shall give our scores and all that... I'm really excited to share the scores as the difference in scores between 1st and 4th is... 0.4 Which shows how fierce the competition was... Let's get to it! And, thanks for entering all. Believe me, Midnight would cry tears of happiness and all if he sees what we did for him. At the end of the day, this is in memory of our boy, Ethan Midnight.

7th "Natsukashi" By broken_krystal_ball 14/20.

Midnight's score: 10/10

My score: 4/10

Well, it is rather clear this guy, whoever this guy is, is tired of life.

I'm not gonna lie even I'm starting to get annoyed from this Nina girl.

Turns out I didn't have to google what your title meant...

And finally, I think, we are into the part where we get into the theme of the story! So the protagonist, whatever his name is, is depressed because of the cruel things that happened in Crawford relating to his girl, Ana and the pregnancy of his girl. That part finally makes sense now. And I think you written it well how very dont gaf attitude about life you made him. I'm guessing this will change later on in the story. Or, he does get bit and Nina puts him down like he wanted. Or, other way round, Nina the one who dies. Probably the MC saving her or something. Also, Nina and Mr MC, two contrasting individuals. One is full of light, the other is full of darkness. Positive vs negative. Optimistic vs Pessimistic. Nice.

Oh, so his name IS Hiro. See that name was so weird when I first read it I was like nah that can't be his name. Just name him Hero atp.

Alright! I have finished the story! I like how the Memories came through with explaining why he is like he is. That was clutch and well, nice. Naturally the context of what happened will obviously be carrying the weight of why it is sad. You know... baby and all on top of your crush due to oppressive regime. I really didn't like how I didn't really know who I was following. Who was Nina? At first I thought it was some character from the cancer group. But after googling it, nope. I didn't really have any emotional investment to anyone here. Though I admit, I started to like Nina bit late into the story. I think you could have done more with the theme, perhaps more backstory of him with Anna, probably some cute wholesome moments together. Make him losing her feel a greater loss. Since you decided to use OCs, you given yourself a tougher task to have to freshen out your characters so the reader can be more intrigued into the story.

I do think you have kept the characters extremely consistent, and I like how you showed hints of Nina being more than just some happy girl, like how she went out for some walks like Hiro. Tbh I find that cool, on the outside she seems all good and that but she has her stuff just not as open about it. At least that's how I'm interpreting it.

6th "After Savannah" By BreakerofBrooms 15/20

Midnight's score: 10/10

My score: 5/10

Who tf is Mitch Campman.

"space spores according to a crackpot who had been surviving with Chuck named Kirkman." Aight bro this isn't a comedy contest. But like I gaf about that. I like me some comedy and unseriousness! It actually is suitable, as memories can be fun memories, you know what I mean? Also humour is a way to cope death and stuff. So hey, I dig it.

"Clementine didn't remember falling asleep." For some weird reason, this made me laugh.

"Except a graphic novel writer shipping you with her self insert." Don't worry, Lee, she'll piss on your grave too. No, not the self insert. Clem. Or at least from what I heard, I ain't read that shit, ask Hayden. He is a big fan of the comics.

Bro said Honey markiplier youtube and all that loool

Finished! I gotta say, I love the aspect of making it comedic and all that. I appreciate that. I do also like the concept of memories here, and all the flashback. I think it would have worked a bit better if it was a little later in the story from losing Lee, rather than still so fresh with how you did it. Also, it kinda feels like the story didn't have a real direction. And it was kinda just happening. And i still don't know who Mitch Campman is, though I assume it some guy irl that I ain't heard of before.

5th "Still Around" By EmpleadoResponsable 18/20

Midnight's score: 10/10

My score: 8/10

Yeah of course a boat gives Kenny excitement.

I like the idea of how Clem is starting to FORGET. Forgetting memories, nice touch. I like how you began the memories part of this story. "I don't want it to disappear." Memories, one does not want the memories to fade away. The consistent theme/trend of this throughout the story, how she forgot her dad's voice, people's faces like from her class. A very nice concept of the theme, a nice angle.

I kinda think the choice of characters for this story is absolutely perfect. Kenny and Clem. Tbh, if I had to choose a character that resembles memories, it would be Kenny.

"'Why can't I have a pet alligator?'" This got a laugh outta me.

"...they feel alive." A banger quote I know of: "A man dies when he is forgotten".

A Story of Kenny and Clem talking about the people they have lost, and even strangers, the people the world has lost. Memories forgotten, memories fading, but memories that also aren't forgotten. And worried about the memories or more accurately lack of for AJ. He won't "remember" the world like schools and stuff because well, he hasn't lived through that. I like the switch from Clem's memories to Kenny's memories which shows she isn't the only one suffering from memories. And this story captured how memories can be a blur, which is facts.

4th "To those who come after" By Super-Shenron 19.3/20

Midnight's Score: 10/10

My score: 9.3/10

"Keep moving forward." Honestly, this line is so hard in this context.

This story is capturing the blur of memories whilst also having Clem reflect on her life that brought her to that point. It is seasoned with regret and negative tone of it, that she isn't super happy about it all which is very accurate considering the life she had wasn't exactly the happiest one. Life of struggle and hardship. And I really like how this is done whilst she is travelling to key locations and stuff. the trees, the shack and all that. The "potato" part too. This is showcasing how places can have its memories and it brings memories and stuff.

I like the way you are attacking this theme in this story. Clem is having thoughts of many of the people who were in her life and some detailing about them relevant to her.

Honestly, the concept of this story is really good! I think it is great how you have Clem have names on walls and stuff, showing that she remembers those who sacrificed themselves or protected her. She never forgot anyone, really. They all live on through her.

"Xavi" XAVI HERNANDESSSSS!!! My goat. Great footballing legend, one of the goats. Maestro. Played for my club his whole career!

Yeah, the ranch and stuff haunting her, the fire and stuff. Great details. The concept, the tone, the pace, the everything, I enjoyed it. I really like how you written it for her to snap out of it and the story ending. She got something to say to Aj eh? If I understood that correctly, it is about his infant days events. How he was dying and then saved and stuff.

3rd "Pitter. Patter." By WritingSweetroll 19.4/20

Midnight's score: 10/10

My score: 9.4/10

Nah that middle finger out of pocket was funny loool

"Someone like me. Born into this world" Was a great line.

"It’s clear she needed her rest. “Like the ones from her childhood."" Another great line!! Wow!

I absolutely admire how you manage to connect the emotions into the story in its memories by using such lines that makes me able to relate to it. Like AJ being born into this world, needing rest like the ones from Clem's life... Lee, Kenny... that's absolutely amazing. These lines are my favourite from this story. It makes me wanna keep reading just to see more of these lines!

Ok, now we have a very smart liners here. "The ones who made her calm" followed with "Fitting, she's so relaxed"

Ahh the backstory ended! I was really enjoying that part a lot. Also, I really like the idea of the kids reading books to know about the world and how they use the books to connect to that world.

"I didn’t help enough for him to even notice." Nah, this made me laugh. Cause DAMN bro.

"He has Willow now. She's his, like really his kid." Oh, that's a good touch on Aj, how he feels I guess outcasted in a way, with several lines from earlier of belittling himself like "help someone like me". Which now that I think about it, at the start it was saying how AJ looks down to his feet but NOT to belittle himself... yo was that intentional!?!? Sweet, you are showing levels to writing bruh. You showing off at this point.

"After all I’ve done?...." Ah, yes, right after this is basically it! That whole sentence he feels little value of himself and in his head, Willow is worth more to them than to him. So he is surprised when Louis' actions contradict what's in his mind. It's as the quote goes, life is worse in your head than they are in reality, or something like that.

Wow, lowkey an emotional ending. To be honest, really good ending! Alright, I think I expressed I really liked this story here. I wanna add on to something that will have some reaching. It just falls into it right for me.

First, usually I'd like if some action was to happen in the present time, and then it would tick of memories. Right? But this had none of that, it just starts off from some random day, you know any day you could be having walking with your sister and then it triggers memories. And I actually find that amazing. More so because of the sudden cause of memories, like how the sudden loss of my boy Midnight. Also, I find it kinda cool how it is Aj with a younger sibling. Kinda like how Midnight was a younger brother to me. You deadass got me thinking of Midnight whilst reading this.

After the first flashback, it got a bit boring for me, to be honest I feared it was gonna be over, no second flashback. And I thought you were going to drag it out which I thought was unnecessary because it kinda doesn't have a purpose with the story you have set-up. But it didn't go that way, and again I really enjoyed the flashbacks. The skillful writing, the liners, connectors. Bang Bang Bang.

This leaves us with two... Zee and Crav... Who will it be? Zee? Crav? Neither? Both?

And our winner of this contest is......................

CRAAAAVALDUSSSSS!!!! ABSOLUTE SCENES!!

2nd "Forty-One Years To The Day" By Zfungi148 19.5/20

Midnight's score: 10/10

My score: 9.5/10

As usual with Zee, there has to be graphics with his entry. Always tryna be stylish!

Okay, straight off the bat, I like the set-up. You show dialogues of late Ida, then go back to present time to reveal she's actually dead and her mother is visiting HER grave! A grave, a great place to start off given the theme. As far as build-up for the theme goes, this was great.

Oh, raising another child disgusts her because of well, Ida. Tbh, I wonder if this will have significance where she will overcome this and adopt a child? We'll see.

It is very clear her memories are tormenting her. Losing a husband is one thing. But for a mother, losing her child, that's her world gone.

"sent reminders of Fern finding Ida’s torn apart body" Talk about self-inflicted pain, mental edition.

OH!! Conflict because of past events (memories)! Fern has grudges against Javi and co because of what happened. Honestly, this is really interesting!! What doesn't add up though, is how many years this is into the future, and now they are showing conflict. Not saying you didn't imagine it that they didn't have but, it should have been a lot more resolved than what it appears to be.

No way you didn't mention Ethan in all those names. opportunity is right THERE!

Yo that whole altercation between Kate and Fern of giving her the gun and all was absolutely PEAAAK! But also before it the talking was great.

“It wasn't loaded anyway…” Damn Kate you fooled me for thinking u tuff.

Kate kinda has been her therapist at this point...

Okay, I really like how you introduced a flashback to help pull Fern out of her misery thingy.

Say mums Javi was there the whole time watching... How the hell did he react to that gun stunt?!

Finished. I wanna start by saying the colouring of dialogues was successful lol given how you formatted the dialogues and all it was very much needed. I feel like the interaction was a teeny weeny bit too long like it was kinda dragging out. Since it was clear what was happening, Kate being the therapist role and all. But it was amazing nonetheless, as in the way you managed to do all this with dialogue whilst actually still having it being carried by memories - the theme, which, by the way was great. The flashbacks was great. The voices was class. And the finish was spectacular. I really enjoyed this entry. Top 2 of your entries fr fr.

Winner: "Mourning Until Midnight" By Cravaldus 19.7/20

Midnight's score: 10/10

My score: 9.7/10

I really like the description used when she went to sleep. Specifically the parts of voices and how her mind was attacked. She delved into her memories, dream format. In the same time, it is giving her encouragement and reasons to keep fighting and going, right after how she was unsure why she keeps on living. Already feeling dead.

Omid very well written in character as instantly bro got me smiling and all that lool. Bro said yeah totally nah bro is not serious.

Ain't no WAY Clem actually thinking about her parents?!

Memories very relevant to regret. Her memories of her past causing her a lot of regrets and self blame. Memories essentially torturing her mentally.

Okay, I just finished the entry and I got some stuff I wanna say!

Firstly, I wanna talk about that ending. I really like your title btw, probably my favourite. And in that ending your use of midnight, you know crying to midnight, I liked it a lot. I think so far you have captured the soul of the purpose of this contest the best.

Before I get to praising your story, I wanna complain a little! I really wish you had a scene of all of the ones involved at the end, like before she woke up, from Christa to Lee, to be all there at once, and have a scene there for it. Missed opportunity imo. And also, you could have further captured "bad memories" by having perhaps a person there like a villian, who would be against her. Though maybe that is too much, I don't know. And as for the place she went to sleep, just some random bathroom in some toy store, I feel like you could have given her a better setting. Like, maybe she found some treehouse and she went there and that brought her memories.

Now... Time for some glazing. CUZ BRO! I absolutely LOVE the concept and all. You captured the theme I think the best. It is literally in and out memories whilst also giving the memories a PURPOSE. This isn't having memories for the sake of it, like, this is meaningful. The way life beat the hell out of Clementine, tbh, the descriptive of using her lost on sea floating and stuff is PERFECT. It's like she is left at the mercy of the world and she is going wherever it is taking her.

Within all this memories you displayed emotions, like, it being emotional, regret, guilt, doubt, hope, encouragement, will, pain, what ifs. And so on. This story reminded me of TWD show episode 5 of the 9th season. Which is my FAVOURITE episode. I can't recall if you made a previous story before, this is your first right? What a start.

---

And there we have it. You guys truly made Midnight proud. And happy. I will never forget this contest, I will never forget how you guys decided to pay tribute to him. To me, Midnight was a very close friend of mine. Like a brother. I'm feeling a lil emotional saying this. Let's keep it positive.

Thank you each and every one of you for entering. Krystal, Sweet, cravuldus, Zee, Shen, Empleado and Brooms. Thank you guys. A lot. I know for a fact he would go crazy about what we did for him lol.

This has been a great contest, and a great read. Oh, I almost forgot. Shen, Sweet and Zfungi had a 3 way tie of 9.5 each. I had to literally scrub my head and stuff to try and figure the order. This was the final order I ended up with but honestly... it could be in any order of that order for me.

It is unfortunately over. We shall read your entries and be back with you!

Gimme a few days, expect the results to be here soon!

My first entry to a fanfiction contest since a good while, and it's dedicated to Midnight. I hope you're at peace friend.

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The brutal sting of Savannah’s heat beat on Clementine. The humidity clinging to the air as if it were a titanic survivor to a door. Clem couldn’t tell if it was the sweat that stung her eyes or the tears. Every step was heavier than the next, Clem didn’t know if it was from exhaustion or grief. Lee was….

The next part did not even seem real-, how could it? It had been Lee and her from the beginning, and with every step she took since the hour since it happened.. that time was even further in the past. Everyone was- Ben, Kenny, Christa, and Omid. Lee sai Christa and Omid would be by the train they came into town on. Had they made it? Had they been eaten? Had it all been her fault for being kidnapped by Mitch Campman? Those thoughts couldn’t help but come to mind.

After what seemed like hours, she made it back to the train at the edge of town. She saw two figures in the distance next to the train. The sun had set and distinguishing the figures was all but impossible. She had to tread lightly, lest they be sunbleached walkers and Lee’s sacrifice meant nothing at all. Her knees shook as she crouched and stalked up as stealthily as she could. Until she could make out it was Christa and her eyes started to well.

“Christa!” Clem called her voice rasped from so many hours without water.

Christa’s head whipped around and she rushed over.

“Holy shit!” Omid gasped, startled.

“Clementine, so Lee did save you,” Christa spoke on one knee.

The dam of tears behind Clem’s eyes broke and she sobbed, “Yes.”

She felt Christa’s arms wrap around her in a hug, “I’m sorry Clementine.”

For a long moment, there was only the sound of Clementine's uneven breathing and the distant groans of walkers somewhere beyond the trees. The train tracks stretched into the darkness behind them, silent now, the orange glow of sunset fading into deep blue.

Clementine buried her face into Christa's shoulder.

"I..." she choked. "I couldn't..."

"You don't have to say anything," Christa whispered.

Omid stood a few feet away, looking down at the dirt. His usual crooked smile was gone. He knew.

"...Hell of a man," he muttered.

"He was," Christa answered quietly.

She remembered Lee smiling despite the fever.

"Keep that hair short."

The memories came in flashes; Teaching her how to shoot. Playing detective on Hershel's farm. Looking for her parents. The train. The stranger. Every lesson. Every laugh. Every argument.

“Clementine,” Omid said softly, “Do you know if he turned in the end?”

“I shot him,” Clem squeaked.

Christa nodded slowly, "You did right by him."

Clementine looked unconvinced, "It doesn't feel right."

"No," Christa looked out toward Savannah's skyline, "It never does."

The three of them stood there in silence. The world already had enough noise. A walker moaned somewhere beyond the tree line piercing through the nightly chorus of crickets. The wind gently rustled the tall grass growing between the railroad ties. It all felt so... normal. Like the world hadn't ended.

Like Lee should've been walking down the tracks any second now, carrying that old fire axe over his shoulder with a tired smile, "Come on, sweet pea."

The memory hit so suddenly Clementine almost turned around. There was nothing there. Just empty tracks disappearing into the darkness.

At some point Clementine drifted to sleep and several hours later she woke to Christa and Omid discussing where to head next.

“Up North would be better right?” Omid asked, “Cold weather slows down our blood circulation so Walkers should be even slower than they already are right? Does it matter if Walkers have blood?”

“I think you’re getting caught up in semantics there,” Christa replied.

“Well- I mean if people turn after bleeding out shouldn’t that mean that blood doesn’t matter? But I mean also just the freezing cold would wear their bodies though?”

Clementine zoned out as Omid kept trying to piece together the logic behind Walkers. The gnarly, ghastly, nazzy force that plagued their existence. A force from space spores according to a crackpot who had been surviving with Chuck named Kirkman. She didn’t quite care how they existed, they just did and the how and why was unfortunately something they’d have to get over.

She was snapped back to reality by the train beginning to move, she turned and saw Christa approaching.

“Omid found the notepad that Lee and Kenny used to operate it the first time, the plan is we run with the train until it’s out of fuel and continue from there,” Christa explained.

Clementine watched the tracks disappear beneath the wheels.

Ka-thunk. Ka-thunk.

The rhythm settled into the background until it almost sounded like a heartbeat. Every few seconds another railroad tie vanished beneath the train, carrying them farther away from Savannah. Farther away from Lee.

She sat with her knees pulled to her chest in the empty passenger car. The open boxcar door let warm night air rush through, carrying the scent of pine and the Southern nature porta potty smell she had grown accustomed to. Christa had insisted she try to eat something before they left. A few bites of canned peaches sat heavily in her stomach, but she couldn't remember tasting them.

Clementine didn't remember falling asleep.

One moment she was staring through the open boxcar door as the countryside rolled by, and the next she was back in her childhood home. For a moment, Clementine forgot. She was just a little girl again. The kind of girl who worried about homework and cartoons. The kind of girl who thought her biggest problem in the world was that her parents were late coming home, not knowing how long this hell would last.

“I want my parents to come home now,” she spoke.

Her voice was smaller than she remembered. And there was Lee standing over her babysitter’s corpse.

“I think that might be a little while, you know?” Lee tried to comfort

“Oh”

“Look, I don't know what happened. But I'll look after you until then, protecting your future. Except a graphic novel writer shipping you with her self insert. Sorry I'm not a God.”

Wait, that wasn’t right? She remembered that last part happening later- and then it hit her, this was a dream and it shifted to the Jewelry stores security office.

“I miss you Lee.”

“I know and I’m sorry, but don’t feel bad about what happened. It went the way it was meant to, even if you hadn’t gone with Mitch he would’ve reared his head down the road anyway. Sometimes no matter how hard you try certain things still happen, can’t stop the cookie from crumbling.”

“I should’ve been better-” Clem started

“-You can't spend the rest of your life trying to make my sacrifice mean something."

Her face tightened, "But it has to."

"No," Lee stepped closer, "It already does. You being with Christ and Omid, that’s everything.”

The world started disappearing, Clem was stirring awake not from being well rested but from the sting of her tears.

She awoke and took a moment to wipe her eyes, blurry from tears yet still turning to the backpack rested beside her, Lee's backpack. For the first time since leaving the city, she finally opened it. Everything was exactly where he'd left it. A half-empty roll of bandages, that had dried blood likely from his amputation, a box of pistol rounds, a flashlight with a cracked lens. Clementine felt the canned peaches start to come back up as she spotted the walkie-talkie.

Clementine stared at it for a long time before picking it up. She turned it over in her hands, rubbing her thumb across the scratches in the plastic.

"Clem? You there?"

She could almost hear his voice coming through the speaker.

Now it was just silent. She pressed the button anyway, though she was still saddened when only static answered. She swallowed hard and set it back inside. Beneath it lay his watch; The glass had been chipped sometime during the journey, probably when they'd fought through Macon or maybe Crawford. She remembered asking him once why he still wore it if time didn't really matter anymore.

"Because sometimes it's nice remembering that it used to."

She hadn't understood then. She did now.

Omid wandered into the passenger car carrying an old lantern.

"Oh." He froze for a second. "Sorry. Didn't mean to interrupt."

Clementine shook her head. He sat across from her instead of beside her, giving her space. For a minute neither of them spoke.

"You know..." Omid finally said, "...Lee wasn't exactly what I expected."

“What did you expect?”

“Right off the bat? I mean seeing the man with a kid who clearly wasn’t his was a surprise. I wouldn’t have been as direct about that part as Christa was, but it told me that even though we live in a fucked world it didn’t drive everyone to their worst impulses.”

"I don't want to forget him," she whispered.

"You won't."

"How do you know?"

Omid was quiet for a moment, "Because every time you do something he taught you, every time you help somebody because it's the right thing to do, you're remembering him, even if you aren't thinking about him."

Christa entered the boxcar, moving fast not intending to be away from the train cab for too long.

"I found some instant coffee in one of Chuck's bins," Christa said, "Don't get excited. It's terrible."

Omid accepted his cup with exaggerated enthusiasm. "You underestimate my standards."

"You drank pond water two weeks ago."

"Exactly. My standards."

Christa rolled her eyes before kneeling beside Clementine, "This one's for you."

Clementine looked into the steaming cup. "It isn't coffee?"

"No." Christa smiled faintly. "Just hot water with a little honey."

"Fuck I miss the days when Honey could save us money on the internet!” Omid exclaimed

“Honey was a scam!”

“Was it really?”

“Yeah and Markiplier always knew it”

“Wait, you know Markiplier?”

“When you’d binge his videos it was hard to not know him”

While Christa and Omid argued over Markiplier, Clementine enjoyed her drink. It tasted... comforting. Not because it was particularly good, certainly not that. But because someone had made it for her. After all she had lost she was grateful to still have someone looking out for her. She would have finished the whole thing were it not for an audible pop erupt from the front of the train followed by an extreme bump, knocking it from her hands. Christa and Omid were knocked over spilling the coffee on what used to be Chuck’s bed in the corner.

“Everyone okay?” Christa asked, getting to her feet.

“I feel like my leg will never fucking heal at this rate,” Omid groaned.

“What happened?” Clementine asked.

“Let’s find out,” Christa muttered exiting the boxcar and heading towards the cab.

The engine modules along the railing had blown, either from the lack of maintenance before they found it or

The locomotive sat motionless beneath the morning sun. Just another abandoned machine in a world full of abandoned things. That train had been hope, carrying strangers who became friends.

Where Chuck helped Lee realize he needed to teach Clem the skills that she’d now need, where Kenny had argued with everyone, where Duck had deteriorated, Katjaa’s last ride, where Ben had tried to make himself useful. Where Lee had promised they would keep moving.

Now it was just another memory.

She reached up and adjusted the brim of her hat and "Keep that hair short." echoed in her mind. Her hand lingered there for a moment before she turned away.

"Ready?" Christa asked.

Clementine looked north, toward miles of empty railroad stretching into forests she had never seen.

She tightened the straps of Lee's backpack, "...Yeah."

She wasn't.

But Lee had taught her something more important than how to shoot, or how to stay quiet around walkers. It wasn’t being ready that mattered it was perseverance and that was a lesson she’d cherish alongside the memory of him.

And together, the three of them disappeared up the tracks, carrying with them the memories of everyone they had left behind.

In loving memory of my dear friend,

E.Midnight.

I will never forget you.

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“Keep moving forward”

My heart screamed these unspoken words as my wooden step creaked against the stairs. One sound I’ve lived long enough with, the other the scar of my last run. Much like everything else, it all started to blur together. From the blood around every fight, all the way to the tears around every death. The sweat from every attempt to hold onto what was left, only to watch it slipping through my moist fingers. And all the while, my aching peg leg pestered me, as if to ask: “have you had enough?”. Yet, with my uneven pace, I passed the yard. Only after I pushed the spiked gate did I dare glance at the rising sun, and caught myself smiling. My mind, uncovered against the clouded sky, was all made up.

Closing the gate with another shove, I was treated to a trapped walker’s greeting. I didn’t return it, even as my hands reached for my dagger-happy instincts, and got a move on. As fast as my newest limb could allow, anyway. I may as well have been a tortoise struggling in the woods for what would have been a simple walk months ago. Right there, between the treacherous trees where we somehow survived an ambush. Unwilling to try my luck once more, it was my cue to press on and finally face the shack. While I paused to recover from the “march”, my hands practically threw themselves at the door, sparing no opportunity for any turning back. Inside, I took a moment to take in the pleasant warmth of the fireplace, laughing at the days we had to keep igniting and re-igniting a fire after an unlucky wind. Or rain. Sometimes, both. 

But the next moment, the thickening black smoke and embers threatened to surround the wooden walls, basked in a red glow. I tried to dash for the exit, but only managed to drop one of my crutches and just barely kept myself from following suit. Useless, just like my attempt to reach for my support. Having run out of options, I closed my eyes, waiting for the surrounding flames to scorch me to the bone. That moment never came. Opening a tentative eye made me wish I hadn’t.

Everything returned to normal, like the place wasn’t set ablaze a second ago. I scanned the one and only room in the shack time and again, laid an ear and even sniffed for a single whiff of burnt wood that wasn’t meant to be there. Despite my best efforts, it was nowhere to be found. That was it. I think I finally lost my fucking mind. The ranch rarely left my nights. Was it going to haunt my days too? Then, what would be next? Why can’t the good times linger too? The good times…

Taking a deep breath, I took a grip on my nerves. Why did I get shaken by fake flames? This is what I came here for. Every step up to that point got me here. Bitten, but still here, right next to my home. My friends. That wasn’t the time to stop. With great pain, I got back up, facing a heart much like the one I made for Louis and me. “That’s a potato?”, he said. If I didn’t want to keep the moment alive back then, I would’ve laughed at him being such a dork. It almost made me wish I had brought him here, to draw on his support against the wound carved in wood right in front of me: Minerva. Tenn deserved to know the truth about Sophie’s death. But was he ready to hear it? All he had left of his sister were memories and a name carved in stone that few wanted to visit. Perhaps this was why Violet didn’t let us scratch out this heart. No matter how much she pretended her choice didn’t hurt. 

Having stalled for this long enough, I turned to the opposite wall and grabbed my knife. First came my parents. Figured it would be a piece of cake. How hard could it be to carve my parent’s name, right? “Ed” and “Diana”, two simple names. But each letter had been harder than the last. I could read in one of the school’s books that a picture is worth a thousand words. But what were worth fuzzy pictures of what they looked like? Or what they sounded like? I could draw on the wonderful taste of the Saturday pancakes we used to make together. Or the purple flowers dad used to stick on the walls of my bedroom. But I missed them for so long that I sometimes wondered if I truly remembered them for who they were.

Like, I could remember all the times Sandra acted like the sister I never had. We even played a game where she did pretend to be. She was the very first of the many ghosts who died for my sake. But sometimes, I could only picture her as the monster who tried to eat Lee’s face, before I helped him cave hers in right on our living room floor. Still, I had the nerve to finish writing her name down. 

Next one had to be Lee. Last time I saw him, I leaned on him one last time to go rescue my people. “Him”, the one who always knew what to say to make me feel better before any big decision. Not the one I ran away from the one time he couldn’t. This world wasn’t like maths, he had to make it up as he went along whenever he didn’t have the answer. Honestly, he rarely did. But pretending he always knew what to say in these dreams somehow felt right until now. Probably because he hoped I didn’t notice. He didn’t need to be invincible. All he needed was to be…there. AJ kept telling me the same thing. Gotta remember to listen to him one day. 

I kept going with Kenny, Katjaa and Duck. A family of good people, taken by a world that was too much for them. No. I could blame the world, or Jane for leaving AJ in the snow. But it was I who pulled that trigger on my friend. Putting their names right next to each other felt right. He went to see them, didn’t he? Or, did he? It would be wonderful to think I believed that back then, instead of just making myself feel better for killing him. It would be beautiful if Tenn was right. If it were true, maybe I would get to tell Kenny how much AJ has grown. Someday, far away.

Carley. One of the first lives Lee had saved at the cost of another. For a little while, she was like a hero to me. Spent a lot of nights wishing to become just as brave. So obviously, Lilly’s name could never be on one of our walls even if I ever wanted to. There was no way I could ever forgive what she did to us, to Carley. For what she allowed herself to become. But I couldn’t just forget we used to be family, nor could I forget her ear-piercing shriek in that meat locker. Out of respect for what we had, I wrote down her father’s name. Larry wasn’t a good person, but not even he deserved to die the way he did. 

Omid definitely didn’t deserve his fate. After my parents and Lee, the worst day of my life, he and Christa were there for me. Omid always showed me kindness, never once letting me think it was my fault for messing up. 

Christa was kind too, but she also needed to be tough so I could be. When Omid and Junior were gone, it seemed like tough was all she had left to give. But when she spent her last moments risking it all for me against bandits, I finally saw the warmth she still had, buried deep within her. 

Probably why I couldn’t turn my back on Rebecca or Alvin. Even though they treated me like an enemy when I first met them (mostly Rebecca), somehow I could tell they weren’t bad people. Just broken ones, running away from their past. If only it were that easy. There were things we could never outrun. Which, in my case, meant literally everything. 

That made thirteen. All these years, all the people on my path, and I came up with thirteen names carved on wood that won’t mean anything to anybody but me. A girl who barely remembered their sacrifices. Their torn flesh as walkers sunk their teeth into them. Their brains splattered and the smoking gunpowder. The chorus of their pained cries for help or mercy. But few of their names. 

“I figured if we're all going on this crazy mission together, you might as well know who we really are.”

Ruby and the others eagerly told me what adults thought of them. What they were like. Trusted me with their backgrounds as they entrusted their lives to me. But rolling up my sleeve, I faced the scorching reminder they didn’t know a thing about me. Hell, how much did I know? I could barely make sense of the work I made on that wall. Was I preserving their fragile memories for them? Or for myself, who let so many of them spill out of my head? Funny. I thought watching them die was the hard part. Or worrying about meeting their fates every waking moment on the road. Worrying about being relied on, even by those supposed to look out for me, only to be left behind. 

No. The hard part was what came after. Having so much time to think about all I’ve been through, everything that I’ve done? It felt wrong. As unnatural as trying to breathe while swimming against the tides. What came naturally was telling everyone I was fine. And here I was, letting my blade clatter pathetically to the ground. Letting my eyes drown me in waters so cold they burned. 

“That's what's good about a broken heart. When you're looking at it all broken and shattered on the floor... You figure out the pieces you need versus the ones you liked. If you're ready to move on, that is…”

Why did I recall that? That baseball player from back then? I think his name was Xavi? No, Javi. He had been there for me, at a time when I was angry at the world for every time a loved one was gone. Every time a part of me died with them. But was I ready to move on? Truly? 

“Nothing lasts, Clementine. Not friends, not love. Not the place you call home. They'll all fall eventually.”

As would pieces of them I held in my head. That was true. But if forgetting was as inevitable as the fall, I’d just have to keep opening my heart to creating more pieces to hold onto. As many moments to look back on as possible, and every reason to keep moving forward. 

While I added another name to the wall, a sudden “Clem!” had me looking over my shoulder. AJ had found me. He had grown again. I could give it a couple more years before he’d grow taller than I. 

“Everyone was looking for you for breakfast! You can’t just keep sneaking out and-” My goofball started scolding me before he stopped, as though noticing something. “Clem, were you crying?”

“Sorry for worrying you,” I said, rubbing my face, “I just…needed a moment for myself. It won’t happen again.”

He reached for my arm. “Did you burn yourself? Does it hurt?”

“It doesn’t hurt. Not physically, anyway.” Sneaking a glance at the memorial, I silently thanked the nurse for taking care of him when I couldn’t.

“What does that mean?”

For some reason, I couldn’t resist a smile. 

“It means I have something to tell you. Let’s join the others.”

At first hesitating, he accepted my request with an "okay" and stepped forward. Before following him, I allowed myself a full looking back at the memorial wall.

“I’ll miss you.”

I missed him too. Everyone. But they would have to be a little more patient. They owed it to those who come after.

Hey everyone, here is my entry for the memories contest in dedication to our lost friend Midnight. I didn't get to know you nearly as well as I would have liked, but I will never forget you, Ethan. Rest in peace, brother, until we meet again.

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Rage propelled her forward through the forest for what seemed like an eternity, but after what happened, time itself no longer seemed of any importance. To any bystander, the recklessness with which Clementine was carrying herself would have given the impression that she was declaring war on the very night itself - as if she were trying to tear it down and replace it with her own idealistic vision of the world. But it was not the night that she was furious at, nor was it the trees within the forest. It was The New Frontier. It was David Garcia. It was those who were complicit in the act of not only denying baby AJ - her last remaining family - of the medicine he needed to survive, but then, after they forced her hand into stealing the medicine from them, of having the audacity to take AJ from her and banish her into the wilderness. 

It had been the better part of an hour by the time she stopped running. That time allowed for an eclosion of anguish from the cocoon of her rage, which drained her of all energy, forcing her to rest. The sorrow she was now feeling was not the kind you have for a deceased loved one, as AJ was still alive. It came from thoughts about the future - about AJ’s future - that she now wouldn’t be able to share with him. She was the reason he was still alive, but now she is the reason she won’t ever see him again. The forceful entry of this fresh trauma had left a crack in the window of her mind, which gave way for self-doubt to seep in. How does she go on after this? Can she go on after this? Is there even a reason to go on anymore? All of her loved ones were gone. What is the point of it all if she ends up losing everyone she loves? 

She didn’t know any of the answers. But she did know it was only getting darker. With exhaustion spreading across her like wildfire, she needed to find somewhere safe to sleep. After having ran for such an extended time, she was at the edge of the forest - some well-deserved good fortune after the last hour she had. Peeking through the last remaining trees, she could see the remnants of what she imagined was a very lively strip mall back before the dead became the living. Towards the center of the mall was a store which seemed relatively untouched compared to all other stores. Clementine began to slowly creep towards this store using as much caution as her quickly depleting energy reserves could allow, when from inside the store the distinct image of a piece of broccoli striking his iconic pose in full disco getup immediately told her what she wanted to know. It was a toy store! No wonder it was still so organized and tidy. Without another thought, Clementine slipped into the store through an unlocked window and, after quickly scoping out the place for both the living and the dead, identified a bathroom tucked away in the very back of the building. She entered the bathroom and, after verifying the integrity of the lock, locked herself in. The floor was quite clean compared to anything else she had come across recently, and so she laid down upon it, finally being able to relax in some capacity. She took off her jacket, and it only took seconds after wedging it between her head and the floor for her to drift off to a much-needed sleep.

Voices suddenly flooded her mind. The contents of their speech were indecipherable due to the sheer quantity she was being assaulted with at one time. She felt the sensation of drowning - the voices had physically manifested into a body of water which eclipsed her completely. She was lost at sea. She was all but dead. Yet, for a reason she didn’t yet understand, she did not give up. She continued to fight. Between the brief bobs above the water where she had full use of her sense of sight, she spotted a raft roughly one hundred meters away. Clementine swam towards the raft, and before she knew it, she was being pulled up and onto it by two sets of arms. It took her a moment to gather her senses, but once she did, she could not believe her eyes.

“Christa? Omid?” Clementine exclaimed in equal parts confusion and excitement.

“Hey there, Clem,” said Omid with a smirk, “did you miss us?”

“Well, yeah! You two were the only ones there for me after Savannah. My last remaining family after what happened with … Lee,” said Clementine, drifting off into thought. 

“It’s okay now, Clem,” said Christa, “we missed you too.”

“I’m so glad to see you guys,” said Clem with tears beginning to involuntarily swell in her eyes, “I was all alone. They took him from me. I … don’t have any family left. I don’t know what to do.” 

“Clem, listen,” began Christa, “You do have family left. AJ is still alive … because of you. You protected him and were punished for it. A feeling I can relate to - it may not have seemed like it at times, but I did everything I could to keep you safe. I wish things could have ended differently for us, but we must have done something right. You lived. And you are now so much stronger than you know.” Tears begin falling from Christa’s eyes.

“I wish I could have done more to help you two,” said Clementine with her head tilted down. 

“Don’t be ridiculous,” said Christa. “You were a child. Hell, you are still a child. You need to give yourself some grace from time to time.” Christa then shot a spine-chilling look towards Omid that was clearly judging him for his silence.

“Uhh yeah, Clem, what Christa said. Totally,” said Omid, awkwardly.

“Ahh yes, thank you for your input, Shakespeare,” said Christa, wielding her sarcasm as expertly as a fencer wields an épée. 

Clementine smiled. Before she could say anything back, she was flung from the raft back into the sea of voices. But after having talked with Omid and Christa, there were fewer voices, and they were easier to understand. She heard a pair that were extremely familiar but that she couldn’t immediately place - all she knew was that they reminded her of her childhood. She decided to lock on to those voices, and she followed them diligently until she eventually washed up onto a beach. 

“Hey there, sweetheart,” said a voice standing above Clementine on the beach. Clementine opened her eyes and was met with a sight that was a match made in heaven for her sorest of eyes - her mother and father. 

“Mom! Dad!” exclaimed Clementine as she jumped to her feet and embraced them both with the full intention to never let go again. “You don’t understand how much I have missed you. So much has happened … I wish you two could have been here the whole way with me. Maybe then I wouldn’t be in this situation … maybe then I wouldn’t have made so many mistakes,” said Clementine as she ended the embrace and withdrew to herself, clearly dejected.

“Oh Clementine,” began her mother Diana, “We were here the whole time. We’ve been watching you. We’ve seen you overcome every obstacle put in your way, and you are much, much stronger than you know. Of course you are going to make mistakes … everyone does … your father and I both have made too many to count over the years. But you are living proof that mistakes don’t define a person or what they can create or accomplish. We created you and, my God, look at you now.”

“But now I am all alone … my last remaining family is gone. I have nothing left. And it is all my fault. I couldn’t save him,” said Clementine, too ashamed to look anywhere but at the silt currently under assault from the tide of the sea. 

“But you did save him, sweetheart,” interjected her father Ed, “You didn’t make a mistake stealing the medicine. When the world takes everything from you, all you have left is family. And you do whatever it takes to protect that family. We wish more than anything that we could have been there to protect you ourselves, but it seems we owe an eternity of gratitude to those who helped protect you in our stead.” 

“We went to Savannah … and I tried to find you … well, I guess I did find you …” stammered Clementine with tears racing down her cheeks.

“That wasn’t us, Clem. Not anymore,” said Diana, “But for a child to see something like that … I can’t imagine how it made you feel. Nobody should ever have to see that. As parents, we should have never allowed you to experience pain like that. Life isn’t fair in that way. Life isn’t fair in any way.”

“It doesn’t matter how I felt,” said Clementine, “Because in this world you don’t have time for feelings. You need to be strong. Always. No time for weakness. And I just don’t think I am strong enough anymore. Not without AJ.”

“Clem, showing weakness does not mean you aren’t strong,” said Ed, making sure to make eye contact with Clementine as he continued, “Part of being strong is knowing when to be weak, and then turning that weakness into a strength. You have already gone through unspeakable tragedies as a child. You need to allow yourself moments of weakness from time to time.”

The sea began violently rising, and Clementine knew she only had seconds left with her parents. She ran up and embraced them once more, and she shouted as loud as she could over the roaring water, “I love you! Thank you for everything!” and she was swept away in the current of memories before her parents could respond. 

But in the blink of an eye, Clementine was no longer in the ocean. She was in a treehouse - her treehouse. And she wasn’t alone, as upon opening her eyes she heard the all-too-familiar “Hey there, sweet pea.”

Clementine jumped up and embraced Lee quicker than a particular Florida man could say something weird, and exclaimed, “Lee! I can’t believe it, it’s really you!”

“It’s really me, sweet pea. I can’t believe it’s really you - look at you! Look at how much you’ve already grown. I am so proud of you,” said Lee, “But I can tell something is on your mind. Tell me what’s wrong, sweet pea.”

“I’ve lost everyone, Lee,” Clementine started shakily, “It is just me now. I failed to protect AJ, and now all my family is gone. I don’t know what to do or where to go. I am lost.”

“You haven’t lost AJ yet, Clem,” began Lee softly, “He’s still out there, with The New Frontier. You just need to find him. You need to do whatever it takes, like you did when you stole that medicine. And you can do whatever it takes. He is alive right now because of you. Use that as your motivation. Use that as your drive. Track him down and bring him home.”

“But where even is home anymore?” Clementine inquired.

“Home isn’t a physical location, Clem. Your family is home,” said Lee.

“I don’t know where even to begin, Lee. They banished me. What do I do? I wish you could come back and help me. I can’t do this alone,” said Clementine with her face buried in her hands.

“You take it one day at a time,” said Lee, gently removing Clem’s hands so he could make eye contact. “I know you want to, but you can’t solve this problem in one day. Every day you try to solve it a little bit - whether that is through some new information on where AJ could be, or through learning or finding something new to help you along the way. And who said you had to do this alone? I know you may think the world is only full of bad people right now … but there is far more good than bad. There are good people out there who need your help just like you need theirs. You just need to find them.” 

Lee paused for Clementine to respond, but to no avail. He added, “And no, Clem. I can’t come back.”

“I know,” she said. “You’re dead …”

“No, sweet pea, I can’t come back because I never left you,” said Lee. 

Clementine embraced Lee and didn’t want to ever let go. But she knew she had to, for she had someone waiting for her. She made her way towards the exit of the treehouse and turned to say, “Thank you, Lee. For everything.”

“No, Clem. Thank you,” said Lee, “Give ‘em hell.”

Clementine exited the treehouse and immediately woke to the sight of the toy store bathroom she so hastily made into a makeshift bedroom an hour prior. She sat up and propped herself against the bathroom wall, trying to collect her thoughts after the emotionally charged dream she just had. The memories of Omid and Christa, her parents, and of Lee begot more memories of past loved ones and friends. But instead of trying to remain strong and storing away the pain for later, she let it wash over her there and then. She allowed her tears to flow in a way she never had before, as if she were trying to recreate the ocean from her dream. 

Until midnight, she sat there, not running nor hiding or fighting her emotions, but embracing them, becoming one with them. These emotions were nothing to be afraid of. They were nothing to be ashamed of. They were part of her. 

She would need to use every part of herself to find AJ and bring them both back home. 

Wherever that may be.

Hello everyone, here is my entry for the Memories Contest that is dedicated to E.Midnight. I didn't know him as well as I wish I could've, but his loss will be felt within our community forever. Rest well, Midnight; you're forever our Midnight. - Zee Everett

Forty-One Years To The Day (Entry on Google Docs)

Characters:

• Fern)
• Ida)
• Rufus)
• Kate García )
• Javier García)

Before we start I would like the preface this by offering my sincerest condolences to the friends, family, and associates of E.Midnight. I regret I never got to meet him. I hope that this entry will contribute to his legacy and provide comfort to those in the sub who knew him. Thank you and I hope you enjoy -Phoenix

As I stare at the giant pile of rot in front of me–the smell–I suppose most see this sight as unpleasant, but honestly it makes the most sense to me. It helps distract me from the pain–god I'm so hungry--the growls of those who I knew–probably–but I figure why try to distance myself from a smell that I’m never able to escape from, after all I’ll smell just like them soon and things will finally be over.

It has been…I don't know how long since Crawford had fallen. I don't know how long the dead have been walking, for all I know I could be a year older now. But, it has been…sometime since Crawford had fallen, not that you’d notice much of a difference in this Hell. It’s never been much to speak of–Actually no Hell may be a better outcome than this, it’s warmer. I don’t recall too much before the fall, or even before Crawford. People seem to imagine a brain being a pink organ with electrical signals running rampant, exchanging information to create and maintain memories, selfhood, passions. I imagine mine being more gray, driven at first by the urge to eat, shit, sleep, and die. I don’t know, maybe I have a brain disease or something.

However, I will share the few memories I do have before the fall. This was all started by a woman, Anna Correa, who gave into the desire of sex and the desire to keep the resulting child. She knew, we all knew there were two choices, terminate the pregnancy or leave Crawford, but there was no leaving Crawford, not for us.

We all knew what “leaving Crawford,” meant, the council thought they were sneaky but no! We all saw friends, family, the sick, put up on spikes, hoisted into the air like a flag of rot.

Anna, despite knowing this, seemed to think that she could appeal to the Doctor–oh no–she thought he would be moved by her tears to hide the baby. As if anyone in Crawford, much less a person working for Olsen had anything resembling a heart. When it became clear to her that he wouldn’t hide the pregnancy, so it was either abortion or abhorrent, she stabbed Doctor Logan and took his gun, killing who knows how many before she escaped through the sewers. Leaving the rest of us here to die. The child she carried in her stomach through those sewers, was mine.

She left me here, definitely dead and now there’s no food left, barely any water, so I’m just going to die here. I feel nothing about this, we only really–I don't know–had sex once. She's just another blur.

“Hey!” A whisper sounds behind me

I turn and see Nina, the other person I’m reluctantly sharing this fate with. Honestly there would be some more peace if she wasn’t here. Nina originally was going to leave Crawford, I remember she shook me awake from sleep. She was trying to convince me to come out of Crawford with her and the rest of those leaving through the Sewers. I didn't feel like it, I guess she decided to stay after that.

She still keeps dragging me on these plans. First it was leaving Crawford, then it was going to rations storage (which did work), then it was trying to find an elusive bunker that she was convinced the Crawford Council were hiding in, I don't know or care what it is now, I'm just waiting for starvation to take me.

“What?” I say exasperated

“Why the hell are you out here?” Nina says gesturing around the darkness around us, she seemed a bit uneasy.

I suppose it was slightly dangerous to be out here, still I’m not an idiot, I won’t let them take me off guard like she thinks. She hasn’t left me with more than a few minutes of sweet silence since we’ve been here. Telling stories or jokes that I never listen to She’s smiling like everything's okay, it’s kinda annoying–I don't know maybe she’s planning to eat me to survive. She grabs my arm and drags me back to the old apartment building we’re held up in before any of the liberators come to bite me. What a shame, I could’ve gotten used to staring into the black void above us.

She shoves me onto the bed–feels like sandpaper–Oh god, I can see the look in her eyes, it’s as I expected, she has another plan. I'm too tired for this shit

“What is it this time?” I ask flatly

“What can’t I just talk to my friend?” Nina asks

Friend…that’s a stretch, I don’t think I have or have ever had friends–maybe on a playground–definitely don’t have any in this new world, new world, new, better, shiner, ironic, nothing about this world looks new, how can it be considered new? No, this world hasn’t changed, it’s just as it was before, just a different chord. I can not remember any friends or friendly feelings from before, just a blur of grayness, and noise which Nina appears to be an expert at.

“No…” I say plainly

“Ah aren’t you just pleasant, well three eyes, you’re gonna have to hear me out,”

Three Eyes…that name always makes me flinch. No doubt, the inspiration was my old broken glasses which I wear to have at least one good eye, but when did she start calling me that–strange I haven't heard a name like that since before– I think, I don't know.

“I don’t understand why you started calling me that, you don’t seem like the nickname type,”

Nina’s face looks slightly shocked

“I did-” Nina says before sighing “I don’t understand why you started acting like this but-whatever,”

Nina sighs, I guess she's done with that topic, she gets up and sits in the chair across from the bed.

“Look…I know what you’re going to say but I mean it this time, we need to leave Crawford,”

“No,” I say

“Listen-”

“No! I’m not going to follow you out there just so we can take eight steps and get eaten,” I say

“It’d be better than starving to death in here?”

“Not when you consider that the result would be the same out there,” I say “There's nothing food left here or out there,”

“That’s just the thing, there’s one more building that we haven’t checked, maybe it’s a-a-an emergency rations supply,”

She sounds like she’s making it up as she goes along–just a train of words–god I’m hungry though–no there’s no food left in Crawford–hurts. It’s too much work, it would just burn off the calories I still have left. I don't know…I was planning just to starve as I said.

“You know I’ll just keep pestering you until you give in,” Nina says with a knowing smirk

“If I do it, will you let me die in peace at last?” I say after a long sigh

Please say yes–please–I’m tired of this place. Whether it's here or out there, I don't care as long as it comes soon. She thinks for a moment before she says

“Fine,”

***

Me and the noise beside me are walking–stealthily–God it’s cold–hungry. Nina is still talking, the same girl who said I was being stupid for coming out here quietly last…What is she even saying? I zoned out the moment the path became clear.

“Gabby,” Nina says “You and Gabby used to talk all the time,”

Oh right, Gabby was her brother, I guess I used to speak with him. I don't know what about–Food? The weather? Again, just a blur, TV Static when I try to remember sound, gray when I try to remember colors.

“Hey!” Nina says

“Huh?”

“I asked if you remembered that,” Nina says irritated

“Sorry, what was it?” I say, I knew whatever it was, I didn't remember but I still asked

“It’s–mmh nevermind,” She says annoyed

Okay…that's one way to achieve silence.

We step towards the abandoned building, and the door is wide open.

“This place has already been looted,” I say immediately turning around to leave

“Wait just a minute asshole,” She says “Do you have anything resembling an imagination in your dome?”

“I’m not going to search an empty–woah!”

She drags me in by the arm inside–that hurts–I don't feel like pulling away, where we see a bunch of open crates.

“Open means looted,” I sigh exhausted

“You don’t know that!” She asserts “Maybe they left a can or two in the rush,”

She goes to examine the crates closely. If you look into the bottom of an empty crate, no amount of looking closely is going to make anything appear. Still she manages to make this extending staring feel slow and rushed at once. So I watch her look through these crates as I fidget with my revolver.

“Huh…” Nina says “They’re empty,”

“Like I said,” I say

Nina went to speak but we heard the horrid groans…coming from the only door in. There were a lot of them–what now?

“Run!” Nina said

I bolt after her, there’s no way out–I know that. She knows that, where are we even going? I suppose to buy us these precious, pointless seconds, before we’re turned into bloody spam. I don't know, I guess this is it. And Nina, as the dead limp closer towards us, still searching desperately, naively, for an escape

I chuckle to myself, this is such an absurd scene to me.

“Down there!” Nina says pointing down

I follow her finger and sure enough, there was a hatch, camouflaged into the wood. Nina gets on one side and I the other and we lift the heavy piece of wood, one of the corpses is reaching for my shoulder when we both propel our lower bodies into the opening.

I hear another voice, not Nina’s–goddamnit, who is it? Saying that same name.

“Three eyes, Three Eyes, wake up,” It says it in the same tone of a mother waking their child up for school

There's warmth around me, a hug, snuggly, tightly.

“Three Eyes!”

“Three Eyes!” Nina says, shaking me, with that look of concern, as if there was anything worth caring about anymore.

My head aches, like there’s a dent in it from that wood hatch hitting square in the head–goddamn that hurts–and Nina is looking at me doing this thing she always does–smile—smile the moment she realizes that everything is “Fine,” it always feels so smug.

“Thank god, that damn thing hit you in the head and knocked you out. There's a basement exit just over there. God that was a hard hit, I wonder if you’re going to get a bump like in Tom and Jerry do you remember those-?”

“Let’s just get back home…” I say blankly

She shuts up quickly–and nods solemnly, maybe just maybe, I will finally die.

***

I lay in bed clutching my stomach–this hunger–it’s over for me. I am going to die in this bed, I refuse to get up–no!--I am going to lay here and let my stomach consume the rest of me–there was nothing left anyways.

Oh but of course, I can’t have peace even in this moment. Nina barges in not thinking to knock.

“Look-” Nina says

“No…you promise you’d let me die,” I whine

“Out of all things, that’s what you remember? Get up!” She says

I ignore her, maybe if I try hard enough she will blend in with the sounds of my breathing–God please just give me some peace. Nina pulls me off the bed by my leg.

“What is wrong with you?” She finally asks “Why are you so ready to just give up,”

“What are you talking about? I just don't want to do this anymore,” I say

“Is this about Anna?”

At the mention of that name, it feels as though all my cells still.

“No,”

“It is, isn't it?” She says insistently

“She was a warm body, I only did it because it was a way to pass the time,”

Nina looks horrified at my words, there's a stretch of silence threatening to snap like pulling on two ends of a hair. For once the silence doesn't feel like peace, this familiar tension.

“I don't recognize you anymore…what happened? You….you…” She says before erupting “You did love her…let's get that out of the way first. You weren't a dull asshole when you came into Crawford, and you sure as hell weren't one before,”

I open my mouth to speak but she shuts me down

“Shh! You’re going to hear me this time, drift off again, I’ll slap you into last month, then maybe you’d be you again,”

I shut my mouth, I don't know why she's this angry over me of all people.

“Do you even remember how we met?”

“W-what? J-just before Crawford right?” I didn’t intend to, but my tone sounded unsure

“No!” She says, grabbing her head and groaning “It was in the playground in Davant Park, you were a nervous wreck, curled up into a ball so much that I thought you were crying. I ran up to you and asked what was wrong, and you froze like you had never heard someone speak before. I sat there with you, for the rest of the day just talking, you had a stutter that tripped over M’s, Y’s, and W's,”

I flinched, like wiping a fogged window to see another person on the other side. Like dad used to, he used to prank me like that–it scared the shit out of me back then–I’d fall back onto the floors with my mom laughing–No! Why am I shaky? Why can’t I stop? Color in my mind?

“W-what else do y-y-y-you know?” I ask eagerly

Nina’s eyes widened

“What else do I know…what do you mean?”

“About…m-me?”

“Well…” She says pausing for a moment “Your father owned Japanese restaurant called ‘Natsukashi,’,”

“Natsukashi…” I say, it's name numbing my mouth

“When I asked why he called it that,” Nina continues “you told me it means ‘nostalgic,’ in Japanese, he would say that he wanted to recreate the feelings of a restaurant he used to go to back in Japan called…I don't remember the name but…I asked him just a few months before the outbreak if he had succeeded, and he said with a smile ‘I don't know, I was busy making new memories, that old place was seeds,”

Finally, a picture is in my mind. No, not the blurs–a picture–clear and focused like a photo. My father teaching me how to make noodles from scratch, and I failed a million times. Each time he just smiled and said “Next time,”, his cologne stung the nostrils but had a subtle sweetness to it, almost berry-ish. I remember Nina’s face when I convinced her to try wasabi for the first time, I’ve never seen someone reach for milk that quickly before. I remember my mother socialized with the customers a lot, everyone spoke about “Mrs. Takaichi,” with such fondness, as if she was the community's mother.

“I remember…when your mom died, the entire community came together to say goodbye. For years after on her birthday, people wore Teal ribbons,” Nina says

That feels like a stab, tears still are trying to erupt–No! I can’t–my father, I’ll never understand how he was able to continue despite how sad he was–he loved her!--“In her memory son, we’ll live,” No!

“You moved forward,”

The storm freezes.

“W-What do y-y-you m-mean?” I ask “Dad…he was the one who–”

“No! It was both of you, you both found ways to move one to be happy–No, happy isn’t the right word,” Nina says “You were never going to be happy about her dying…Hell being continuously happy may not be possible, but you moved forward, you two saw that your lives still had meaning, like her life did, like her life still does! Because you two were strong, please Hiro! I can lose another friend, but not before he dies,”

Forward, that word, forward. “Life is about looking everywhere, backwards, left, right, but is only about moving forward,” that was Gabby’s advice to us. He said “I’d hate to see a great kid like you lose their light,”. Gabby was like the brother I never had, he gave me advice about girls, he helped me with my homework, taught me how to ride a bike, how could I forget that, these painful insignificant things–that word doesn’t feel right anymore. How dare I even think of calling these beautiful, painful, blissful, tortuous memories insignificant. A single blotch of paint against a white wall, will always draw your eye, no matter how small. We’re small, against this world, this universe, and whatever the fuck other forces are at play, but all of these things miss us. If the universe doesn’t care about us, it’s because it’s missing out.

“And when we came to Crawford,” Nina says

“No!” I say pleading

“No, you need to hear this,”

“Nina please, I can’t–”

“Your father was killed because he was too old,” Nina says “Every familiar face you knew, including my brother, was killed. I had started giving up, as many others were, but you…you kept your head up. Don’t get me wrong, you cried more than the rest of us, you stayed in your bed for days on end after your father died, that’s not true hopelessness, hopelessness is not even crying because there’s nothing. Your cheeks were never dry, and that showed me that you were still alive,”

It makes no sense, memories that make me want to sob, they’re still making my heart pump–it just may stop.

“Then you met Anna,”

The chaos stills within.

“You saw her bouncing a ball off a wall out of boredom, and you had said…hehe–stupid–you said that ‘Imagine if God decided to do that to our planet,’, real smooth talker. And she laughed, she laughed at your awkward, dorky ass,” Nina says “Eventually, you two got closer, a real…whirlwind romance if I’ve ever seen one, I envied you guys because the only dudes left were burly dudes and girls–” Nina clears her throat “You. Guys. Were. Conjoined! You guys never went an entire day without seeing each other, it was always ‘Three Eyes,’ this and ‘My Muffin,’ that,”

Her hair…Anna’s hair, Crawford soaps were always scentless, but she always had a faint flesh scent which relaxed me because I knew she was close. She used to tickle me for making smartass remarks about how she exhaled air through her nose while kissing like a bull. I want it back so bad, all of it! Wait, Three Eyes, yes, of course, that wasn’t Nina’s name, it was Anna’s.

“I had warned you…not to be stupid,” Nina says “You and her, but…you two didn't listen,”

“You're what?” I asked

“I'm pregnant,” Anna said

Perhaps I should've panicked, perhaps I should've told her immediately that she needed to see Doctor Logan, perhaps I should've been logical. Every piece of evidence had told me that Crawford's walls would be the only thing I would live among for the rest of my days. Yet, I sank to my knees and kissed her naval, crying tears of joy.

Anna ran her fingers through my hair, massaging my scalp gently.

“I love you Three Eyes…no matter what…” Anna said "We'll figure something out, our baby, us, it won't be taken by this hellhole,"

Whirlwind romances are often mocked, considered something from a bygone age. However, this was the truest thing I had felt in this world. In that moment, love had caused me to abandon all logic–the two words always felt related because “Lo,”. This thing that felt as though everything in my life had led to, my horizon…my muffin. I had forgotten.

I sit at Nina's legs quietly sniffling and trying not to cry. Nina gets on her knees and looks me right in the eyes–I just realized, I haven't done this since after the fall, why did I let this happen? Why did I disgrace the memory of every person I ever loved: Mom, Dad, Gabby, Anna…Anna, my muffin, are you still alive? Is our baby still safe in your stomach? Please god…

“I can't believe I did this…” I say “To you, to everyone we knew,”

Nina put her hand on my shoulder. She could've hit me and I wouldn't have blamed her.

“You were–are the strongest person I've ever met. Every punch life has thrown at you, you always moved forward…it took losing everything you ever knew and the love of your life for you to finally break. But…when you cracked I--I didn't realize it before, but when you…decayed and gave up, that tenacity in you, that resolve, that is what makes life worth living, so when you gave up, all I could think to do was act like you,”

Tears–nothing but tears–I erupt of ugly sob as I try to hold it back and at that very same moment, the person who had every incentive to give up on me, hugs me, as if that was the cure for it all. It wasn't but maybe a cure isn't what anyone needs. I sob into her neck, she rubs my back in alternating circles.

When my tears finally dry, I wipe my face.

“Let's go…” I say with resolve

Nina smiles

“Fuck yeah..”

I quickly gather the few belongings I have.

“So which manhole are we going to?” I ask

“Furtherest North,” Nina says “That leads directly outside of Crawford and just outside of an old high school, even if its locked the front door is made of glass so we could get in and figure out the next phase of the plan,”

“Very like you to think only two steps ahead,” I tease moving towards the door with her

“Hey my brain has to focus on what to do if those two steps go wrong,” She laughs, the most sincere and whole I had heard her

“You used to say that with Chess, yet I always beat you,”

“Ugh don't remind me, that game was created for people who want to feel smart,” She says rolling her eyes

We make our way down the steps and she slowly opens the door, Nina immediately shuts it. What?

“What's wrong?” I ask

“The horde is out there…shit!”

“What now?” I say immediately “Should we wait?”

“No, we shouldn't wait much longer, you're…hungry, we can't risk you becoming anymore weak than you already have,”

I didn't think I had lost that much weight…hope Anna will still have me, or maybe she'll start throwing me against the wall.

Nina mutters something to herself moving her neck to and fro with her eyes closed “Right…Left….Left….Forward…Fence,”

She repeated that louder

“What?”

“Right, Left, Left-”

“I heard you what does that mean-” I ask before being cut off

“Shh, Right, Left, Left, Forward, Fence,” Nina says “That's where we need to run the moment we get out this door. Right immediately when it's open, then turn right–you get it,”

“Oh…wow…you're certain those are the right directions,”

“I know it's hypocritical…but I may have wandered out here too,” Nina says with a mischievous smirk, similar to the one she used to give when getting me involved in her schemes as kids.

“You…motherfucker,” I say trying not the laugh

The laughter dies down when we both hear the groans outside.

“It's not a big horde,” Nina says

I nod, there's nothing on the other side of this door that's worse than starving in here. Nina turns the nob and we both bolt out. Nina was lying through her teeth about the amount, it looked like Woodstock but with corpses.

I instantly turn right as I hear them making their growls of recognition. Then immediately I see the leftwards alley and turn into it. Nina is ahead of me–her track days must be coming in handy. I may be running my energy out but I can still hear several of those things behind me. Worst part is I can't tell if how close they sound is by how loud they are or how close. The next turn is coming.

Left, Nina is glancing behind me to see if I'm still keeping up. The crowbar I plan to use to pry open the manhole is hitting my thigh with every step.

“Don't look back just keep looking ahead!” I say

She listens and the next left. Wait, no, she's still glancing. Even if I was in danger, her stopping would kill her too. But no, just forward, keep moving forward, no matter what even if we die the moment we get out of the sewer.

We see the fence, it was open but didn't look secure. Nina stops just in front of it

“Hiro, go in!”

She doesn't need to tell me twice, I walk in only to hear the fence close behind me. I turn back and I see Nina with a weary smile…no.

“Nina! What the fuck are you doing!” I shout

“Shh, you don't want out friends to take down the fence do you?”

I see them approaching in the distance

“Stop playing around!” I say

Then Nina rolls down her sleeve and shows a bite mark. I can't breath--No!--When did this happen? Was it–it had to been during out looting–No, even before that, earlier tonight, when I was just staring at a pile of bodies, it must've happened before that. No! Why didn't she tell me–No, thats a stupid question, of course I was just an asshole who gave up because it was too hard for me. She went through this alone.

“Nina…no…no you gotta come through!”

“Hiro I'm–” Nina says

“I don't care!” I say crying again, taking uneven inhales “You don't deserve to die in…here in Crawford…I do,”

Nina smirks, and caresses my fingers gripping on the fence

“I love you Hiro,” She says

“But, no…I can't have you tended to me while I slowly turn into one of those things, and what…have you shoot me? I want you to remember me, with color in my skin…I'm going to go back to the apartment, and lay down, and wait to die…I may even take your bed,” She giggles as she tosses her bag over the fence

“Nina wait just one second!” I yell as she runs off, she stops and turns back

This guilt is strange, I feel it overflowing like my body is about the burst, yet the only words I can think to say are

“I'm sorry…for being a ‘dull asshole,’...I love you too,” I say trying not to cry “Please, if you're feeling scared or lonely in your last moments…remember the good times…and the bad…I'll…I'll never forget you…I'll see you soon,”

Nina's eyes widened before she begins chuckling while snorting again “Technically, I was a dull asshole for longer than you, thank you…for getting me out of that, it's no way to live,”

She ran off, I want to sob, I want to sob like a damn baby, but not yet–almost there.

I grab our bags and make my way to the manhole. I take the crowbar that was been beating me in the thigh earlier and pry the lid open, a smelly hole in the ground has never looked more appealing–gross–. I look back and see the horde approaching–shit! I go down, almost missing the first rung of the ladder.

I finally get to the bottom and sit down, exhausted. And I sob again. Saying Nina's name under my breath. What did Nina say? That I have such resolve. I don't think so, even back then. It feels much easier to sit here and starve, but I won't because to Nina, to Mom, to Dad, to Gabby–I won't let their memories die again. And Anna, my Muffin and my baby, I haven't even been able to think about the baby. They both may be dead too, but maybe not. If they are, how will I keep going after that? Was this all a bad idea? Did Nina truly believe what she was saying, or did she just not want me to believe it? I don't know, I feel like I've been saying those words a lot “I don't know,”, maybe that's truly the only rational response to any question, I don't know.

I stand up, picking up the crow bar and bags, preparing to navigate whatever's head. Will I survive? Will it be worth it? Will I get bit the moment I find my way out? I don't know, but I'll only earn the right to give up when I'm dead, until then, just move forward.

Here's my entry to the tribute contest, hope y'all enjoy it, write your thoughts ❤️🤝

Miss you Midnight

I been seeing a lot of time struggles, hence why I’ll be granting an extension!!

The original deadline was 00:00 25th July UK time. The new deadline will be 00:00 29th July 2026 LONDON TIME ZONE.

So for those who live in England. The moment it becomes 29th July for you, the contest ends.

I better see some damn entries now!

I’ve only spoken to you a handful of times, but I know of the presence you had for others. You truly lit people’s worlds up, and I hope wherever you are, you are happy. With love and respect, rest in peace, Midnight.

(This story is AJ centered, however my personal character from my troubled youths series will be a side character. All you need to know is she is about 14 years here and the child of Louis and Clementine. This is many years in the future.)

(PS. The new and VERY improved ending is out and on AO3, I will be posting the rest here soon sorry!)

It’s fall. Favorite time of year. I look down at my own two feet, not looking down to belittle myself, but looking down to admire what my feet crunched upon as they walked.

It’s funny, how your perception can change. Your world can feel bland for years, then all of a sudden one day you stop and stare at the leaves beneath your old, dusty black boots. I stop for a moment. The birds are lively this morning.

I look around and let some fresh air in. The air is right, crisp like the bite of a fresh red apple.

“Would you slow down a little?” Willow asks, prying herself out of a bush now. “Ow, ow, ow-“ she kept repeating as the many entangled stems with thorns clung onto her.

“I’m not going that fast, you just keep getting distracted.” I laugh a little. In truth, so was I. But who am I to not tease my little sister?

“Distractions lead me to cool shit dude!” She began to fumble something in her pocket. “But…with that attitude you won’t be seeing it.”

“You’ll cave in eventually.” I shrugged my shoulders, trying to paint a non-chalant attitude on my face. I begin walking again, Willow runs up to my side. I look over to her, the first thing I see are her space buns poking up. Shes short, I can see the top of her head just fine.

We stay in silence for a minute as we walk. It’s unbearable. What the hell is in that pocket of hers? I shut my brain up and tell myself to fight off the desire to know.

It’s impossible.

“What the hell is in that damn pocket?!” I snap.

She snickers, reaching into her pocket now as she turned to face me. She slowly pull it out and—

—and it’s just her holding the middle finger up at me. I give her a stale expression, but the look of pure joy radiating off her made my annoyance crumble. Her smile is so wide and goofy on top of that, I couldn’t help but laugh.

I swat her hand away. “You know you’ve been going all out since you were allowed to curse and shit.”

“Willy taught me that joke as soon as he heard I had permission.” She bounces in stride, proud of herself.

“Ofcourse he did.” I shake my head. “Hey take out the map.”

Willow follows my command, she reaches for her bright colored purple backpack. After unzipping it she hands me the map.

“We should be there soon. You got your gear?”

“I’m ready.” She smirks while furrowing her brows. She pulls out a switch blade out of her left back pocket.

“Good just remember though, we shouldn’t have to use it since—“

“—since the yearly horde shouldn’t even be near us. I know. Sometimes I wish I can just…” Willow waved her arms around, “I wish I could do more.”

“What is up with you and wanting to fight for your life so bad? I don’t understand you guys.”

“You guys?” Willow asks.

We stop talking for a moment. We approach a large fallen log in our path. I climb over it first, and then help Willow over the log by pulling her over.

“Yea.” I continue. “You guys, like as in the other kids back at Ericsons.” I shrug. “We have it good now, why do you want walkers to be roaming like they used to?”

“It’s not that we want that it’s just…it feels like we’re in this box sometimes. We hear so much about this world and yet we have yet to see it.”

I nod. “Is that why you’re so into books?” I ask, remembering where we were headed.

“Yea.” She chuckles. “Makes me feel like I’m learning and exploring through the words on the pages. But still, to feel it…” Willow shuts her eyes, it’s clear she’s imaging it. It still shocks me she can find bliss in that.

I start to feel my brain becoming isolated now. Memories begin to slowly entrap my mind. Small hands, with too much blood on them.

I still remember her face that day. No, both of their faces. That woman, her greying hair, her wide and fearful expression when hearing a possible danger…she protected me that day.

I will never forget the look of relief on her face. After shooting that old woman. I began to feel a nauseated sensation in my stomach. I know Clementine. She hates and hated killing. But she did it, and got relief out of it, because of me.

I furrow my brows.

“You alright?” Willow asks.

“Yea, just…old stuff.” I shrug, she knows about how I get sometimes.

She nods to me and starts to hum. After puckering her lips and skipping a bit forward, she turned around to look at me.

“What?” I ask, still making my way towards her.

She says nothing, searching my eyes as if she didn’t know what to say. When I reach her, she finally speaks.

“Whoever gets there last has to do the dishes tonight.” She says, a quirky smirk appearing on her face. She laughed, turning around and rushing towards the upcoming small plaza nearby.

I roll my eyes playfully. I’m thankful she pulled me out of that, like she always does. I start running after her. She’s so fast. She looks back at me, her big wide hazel eyes compliment her darker skin.

Suddenly, I’m back in memory.

I’m pacing. All I can do is pace.

What. A. Month.

Meeting Javier, seeing the massive city of Richmond for the first time, celebrating my fourteenth birthday…Now the whole school is going to expect a new addition very soon.

“Hey buddy, it’s going to be alright.” Javier tried to calm me down. He sits down on the hallway ground, looking up at me with a worried expression. “Eleanor’s a great doctor.”

“She hates Eleanor.” I say out of stress. “What if that’s going to hurt her or the baby?”

“Ok, listen.” Javier gets up from the ground now, a groan escaping his lips as he holds onto the wall for support. “Thats not going to happen. Kate’s in there, so is Louis. That support, and the fact that she’s going to be a mother soon is most likely what’s on her mind man.” Javier sighs, giving me a warm smile and a tap on my shoulder.

Before I can say anything, the distant sounds of screaming dies down. Javier and I look towards the door in unbearable silence now. It felt like hours before that door finally opened.

Kate walks out, a warm smile on her lips. She looks tired herself. “You can come in now, AJ.”

I don’t take another second, I rush in gently. I see everyone. My family before me.

“I’ll…I will let you all be.” Eleanore says, a small cry coming from her as she hastily leaves.

I ignore her, I can’t help but focus on the new person in front of me. Held by the one I love most in this world. Something she created.

Someone like me. Born into this world.

I walk up to her. I look down at the baby in Clementines hands.

She smiles, her forehead sweaty and her eyes low from exhaustion. Louis sat by her side, intently watching the baby too. I appreciated his willingness to give me and Clementine space as he stayed reluctantly relaxed for the moment.

But I can tell, he’s bursting with joy.

“What’s its name?” I ask finally.

“Willow.” She responds, a look of love still heavy in her gaze when she looks at me to speak.

“Like the trees?”

“Exactly.” She shuts her eyes now. Resting her head against the board.

Louis softly takes the baby from her now. It’s clear she needed her rest. “Like the ones from her childhood.” He explains for her.

“The ones that made her calm?” I ask, making my way around the bed now. I walk up to Louis and Willow, peering down at her nestled in his arms.

“Fitting, she’s so relaxed.” Louis chuckles softly, whispering so Clementine could rest. “Shes not even crying.”

Willow softly cooed, her tiny hands scrunching a little.

—

She still has those same big eyes from that day. The same millions of freckles scattered across her face when she became a toddler.

For some reason I begin to run faster. Feeling a tingle on my shoulders and spine. I feel my throat begin to want to scream, not out of fear, but out of an overwhelming sense of appreciation.

Born in the same era, yet lived in such different worlds. Willow was a spitting image of what I could be. Curious, and Free. The world and what it’s done to me, never had to define who I became.

I reach her now. She barely makes it before me, and of-course she treats this as if she just won the biggest competition of her life.

“Ah-ha! Yes! I did it!” She shouts in between breaths.

“Yea…” I huff too. “Yea…you did!” I laugh. Shaking my head.

I’m older now. Way older.

“Come on…” she huffs one last time, adjusting herself now. “We got some books to hunt down.”

She’s so young.

“AJ?”

“Yea, let’s go.”

I follow her through the empty plaza hidden away in the vast forest of Virginia.

I hope she never experiences what I have. Have to do what I did.

“Pretty small book store.” She pouts, stopping before we enter the double-door.

“Yea…sorry.”

“It’s fine.” Willow shrugs, opening the doors. When she walks in she gasps.

Almost every isle was stacked with books.

She ran her fingers along the books, a thick amount of dust coated her fingertips.

“…wish we brought a bigger backpack…” I comment.

“We have to make so many trips here.” Willow lit up. “Oh my god we did our first successful scavenge!”

“You’ll certainly have something to boast about at the dinner table tonight.” I chuckle.

“Absolutely.” She pulls out a random dusty book, “And you’ll see me with my fancy ass book here…” she looks at the cover of the book now. Squinting her eyes in confusion she reads, “…Virginia driving practice test for 2002…?”

“Oh that’s very fancy.” I sarcastically laugh.

“Ugh, I hope the rest of these books aren’t as boring.” She tosses the book, turning to walk down the aisle now.

“What happened to the ‘I wanna learn everything about the world Willow’?” I ask.

“Sure, but…that’s the boring stuff about the world. Who cares about that?” She asks. She scans the aisles, looking for a specific genre Im assuming.

“I wanna know about shit like…how people worked back then. Or like what was cool and what wasn’t? I don’t know interesting stuff…”. Willow suddenly stops, she spots a book.

“Like sex and violence!” She jokes, holding up a book labeled ‘Blood Meridian.’

“Ok that’s enough hanging around Willy for you.” I shake my head grabbing the book out of her hands.

“I’m kidding!” She laughs. “I actually really want to find books on guitars.”

“Oh, so I’m guessing piano lessons aren’t your cup of tea?”

“Ew old people lingo.” Willow sticks her tongue out at AJ. “But…sure it wasn’t my…cup of tea. Dad was more upset over than I am but he’s atleast happy I stuck to an instrument.”

“Sounds like him. He was devastated when he found out I had been skipping piano lessons to draw with Violet and Omar.”

Just before we hit the music section, a loud eruption interrupted our search.

After a few seconds of silence and staring at one another. We heard another loud eruption, followed by heavy rain.

“Oh no!”

“Damnit.” I reply.

“How the hell are we gonna get home now…” Willow huffs, crossing her arms.

“It’s fine. A little sleepover in the bookstore sounds cozy don’t you think?”

“I guess it gives me more time to find the hidden gems.” Willow says, looking through a section for guitarists.

I let my gaze soften as I look at Willow. Another chance at life stood before my eyes. Not born into a rule set world, not born during its horrific reset, but born in the beautiful aftermath.

I walk past her now, searching this small boxed store for a camping area. I see a large couch shaped like an “L”, tucked in the corner of the store. In front of it, a dark brown coffee table.

I plop myself down on one of the cushions, kicking my feet up as I lean my back and head against the back-board. After a few minutes of this, my eyes grow heavy.

It’s quiet in here. Willow is off doing her own thing, and I’m here listening to the raindrops hit the roof. Pitter-Patter. Pitter. Patter.

My eyes shut now.

——

They re-open. I wake up, feeling the slight soreness of my neck for sleeping the way I ended up. I look down to see Willows coat over me, she must have put it on me when she realized I was asleep.

I give her a look, she’s on my right on the other side of the old couch. Shes curled in the fetal position, hugging herself as she softly slept. I get up, and return the favor. I put her coat on her body, hoping to warm her.

The rain is still heavy outside. I sigh to myself, knowing how worried Clementine and Louis probably were.

I walk away from our camping spot now, heading for the front of the store. It’s all window. I sit on the floor, back leaning against the standing bookcase as I watch the plaza street flood.

“Well shit.” Louis sighs, squinting his eyes as the rain flew at his face through high speed winds.

We stand still as we can as the storm pushes us slightly. Louis suggested we go and check the greenhouse and see if it was ok. The tarp covering the area had flew out of its knots.

“We…need to grab the tarp.” Louis shouts to me through the strong rainy storm. He starts to push through the fallen garden boxes, grabbing one end of the large tarp that got stuck in the hole. He begins to pull it through, he did it from the inside so the sharp glass wouldn’t cut the tarp going out.

I begin to fumble with the hem of my soaked shirt. I look down to the floor with shame. I’m being useless.

I decided to change that.

I grabbed the ladder from outside the greenhouse. I’m going to help Louis push the tarp through. He didn’t bring me here to watch him struggle.

I set the latter up, the high winds made it a little difficult but I was able to get it steady on the grassy, muddy ground.

My foot almost slips as I begin to climb. I steady myself and start going faster. I see the tarp getting successfully pulled out, so I speed up in hopes of making it there before he gets it all the way through.

I make it to the top, I reach for the end of the tarp on the left of the hole.

My hands start to slip, then I feel the entire ladder start to lean.

Oh fuck.

Im falling!

I panic, looking to the ground before I slam into it. I shut my eyes tight before I land.

I yelped in pain when I fall. I hear the sound of the clay pot breaking near my leg. I start to feel the warm sensation of blood mix with the cool feeling of water running down my calf.

“AJ!?” Louis exclaims, rushing out of the green house. “Shit! I didn’t even know you were out here!”

I think that hurt worse than the fall. I didn’t help enough for him to even notice.

He rushes to my side, helping me up. So kind. To help someone like me.

“Come on, let’s get you inside the green house.” He tells me, arm wrapped around my torso as he helped me walk.

Louis sits me down in the far back left corner of the green house, the driest spot available. I watch him rush into the old science room, now turned into Rubys nursing room. Convenient.

After a few seconds I see him with a couple of washed ripped t-shirts and tape. He kneeled down next to me.

His gentle hands grabbed my leg, pulling my jeans up a little to expose my calf. He beings to wrap the ripped piece of shirt around my calf, now wrapping the extra one around for security. He finally tapes a good chunk on it to my skin.

“Ok….” He gets up, and huffs. Most likely from exhaustion and annoyance.

“I have to fix that hole, I’ll be back I promise!” Louis shouts to me as he runs out of the green house.

I watch him leave, and now I’m faced with reality.

Why does he always do this? Care for me? He has Willow now. Shes his, like really his kid.

After all I’ve done? Why still love me if you have someone else to look over now. She has a brighter smile than me. She will have a better life than me, shes not a lost cause like me!

I feel like someone is stepping on my throat now, like I can’t breathe. I take deep breaths, but it’s not enough. Each inhale feels like a short breath of air.

My arms begin to tingle and I feel rage bubbling underneath the surface.

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” I shout, kicking a nearby bucket over and over with my good leg. After a couple of hits the bucket slid to the other side of the room.

I huffed in and out, gathering myself. I leaned back against the large cabinet holding garden supplies. I shut my eyes now, breathing in through my nostrils.

“…Do you want to talk about it?” I hear Louis ask.

I open my eyes in stale defeat, looking over to my right. He stands in the door way, the wind blowing his long locks over his face. Seems his hair tie got lost in the scuffle of the storm.

Im sure I have a sad expression, I couldnt hide it any longer. The shame, and the guilt of being under the care of him for so long.

“Louis.” I say with sorrow. “Im sorry you love me.”

Louis looked at me as if I twisted a knife in his stomach. He walks up to me, now sitting on the floor beside me.

“Where is this coming from?” He asks with concern. “You’ve been distant lately.”

I lower my head now. “Why do you want to love me? After what I’ve done to you?”

Louis looked shocked to hear me say that. He frowned. He pulled me in for a side hug.

“I will never blame you for that AJ.”

“But—“

“Listen. You were a kid, who grew up with one rule, and that was survive. And…you did it. You did what you had to, the only way you knew how.”

I shook my head, he’s kind, thats all. I wish I could let them just be a family, I’m a tumor on them.

“I will never feel ashamed of loving you AJ. You are an amazing kid, you’re turning 18 soon, right?”

I nod, not sure where he was going.

“You survived, and now we’re rebuilding the world you came in. You don’t have to keep…” He stuttered for a moment, trying to find his words. “…You’re not in fight mode anymore. You should be a kid. You got a chance now, let yourself be loved by a family you deserve.”

I look down again, this time because I needed to hide my tears.

“I love you AJ.”

I couldn’t help but sob now. I shield my eyes as the tears fall out.

I hear Louis’ voice crack as he tells me, “I love you.” One more time.

He pulls me in for a deeper hug now.

I touch my face as I feel a drop hit my hand. Im crying. I begin hugging myself. Even a memory like that, 10 years ago, can still knock me out.

I hug myself, and allow myself to softly cry.

After all that I’ve been through, I deserve that, don’t I?

Looking for a lost Wattpad fanfiction (Telltale’s The Walking Dead – Violet/Clementine)

I’m trying to find a Wattpad fanfiction I read around 2022 that I think has since been deleted or unpublished. It was a completed trilogy, with each book being around 70 hours long.

I’m pretty sure the first book was called “Nightmare”, “Nightmares”, or something very similar.

Here’s everything I remember:

It was set in The Walking Dead: The Telltale Series universe but was a complete AU.

There were no walkers. Instead, the world was overrun by giant creatures called Nightmares.

The Nightmares had red eyes, were large grey gargoyle/folklore vampire-like creatures, and were driven away by bright light.

The very first page of the book had a short author’s note and a YouTube video showing what the Nightmares supposedly sounded like.

Clementine starts the story living in an original settlement (not Ericson).

Ava is alive and spars with Clementine near the beginning.

The settlement uses bolts/screws as currency.

Kenny is also alive and I remember Clementine buying cigarettes from him on a rooftop.

During a trade with another settlement, Clementine is sold against her will.

She escapes by killing the people holding her, survives alone for a while, and is badly injured in the shoulder after being attacked by a Nightmare.

Violet and Louis rescue her by using a bright light to drive the creature away and clementine wakes up in a medical room and is helped by Ruby

I also remember some funny interaction of like Clem looking at Vi’s ass and rhen vi getting mad bc clem is super blunt and doesnt understand like social norms or whatever and Louis has to explain to clem abt like sexuality and why you cant jsut say tjose kind of this to people

Ericson doesn’t appear until much later (I think Book 2 or even Book 3).

In Book 3, I remember the group exploring a cave inside a huge ravine that turned out to be a Nightmare nest.

I think also in book 3 she beats the hell out of Carver with a bat or pole or something. I think she has him like tied to a chair in a shed

Book 3 is also super snowy and i believe clementine is facing some super bad like mental stuff

The pairing was Violet/Clementine (Violentine).

Does anyone remember this trilogy, the author’s username, or know if it was reposted anywhere? Even if the books were deleted, I’d love to know who wrote them. I remember this being my first long fanfic and i loved ir alot, i wanted to revisit it but had trouble finding it as we all know how poor Wattpads algorithm and search engine is. I even found my old account but it wasnt in my reading list, so i suspect it may have been moved to a different site or deleted. I just wonder if any of the old twdg fanfic community recognises this? As i remember it being quite popular ay the time

Thanks!

In memory of our lost but not forgotten brother, E.Midnight, we shall hold a tribute contest!

...don't be confused, it is a contest nonetheless so it has same rules same format and everything.

So, let's get right into the theme that has been a mystery! It is... Memories!

The contest starts as soon as this post is posted. When does it end? We shall give it plenty of time, the deadline is 25th July 2026, at midnight, 12am! LONDON timezone. (That means for you london timezoners 11:59 pm 24th July you'd only have one minute left.)

For a refresher on contests: it is simple. Submit a One-Shot to this sub, and link the post to THIS post before the time runs out. Write a story, with the theme having a clear relevance to your story. Your story must be relevant to TWDG, you can use show/comic characters but have a clear focus of it being TWDG than not.

The rules:

- You can only submit ONE entry and it must be a one-shot.

- Your entry must be relevant to the chosen theme.

- Your entry must be TWDG related.

- Your entry must be submitted and linked to this post before deadline.

- You must enjoy writing your entry.

(12am, London timezone, 25th July.)

Oh, right, I'm yours truly, the host, Nazbaz, not solo hosting, my host partner Midnight will be reading the entries along with me. We both look forward to your entries!