Hi Friends

I've had this in my brain forever and as usual the first chapter is always the hardest for me. I have great plans for the next chapters if you can stick with me I'll try and give you a great story to read.

-Enjoy

Carl could only stand and watch as the Governor stood there, oh so cocky. The man had Michonne's sword in his hand and poor old Hershel on his knees in front of him. His father, Rick, seemed to be negotiating with him, pleading, begging. Nobody could hear the conversation from how far back they could only wait, and watch, but it changed in just a split second. The one eyed man and swung at Hershel, giving the man a large hacked wound that blood gushed from. That's all it took.

Then it turned to chaos.

Chunks of the place he once called home were flying all over the place. Dust flew into his eyes and he had no time to recover before the grueling moans of walkers was upon him. A small horde was coming towards him, forcing him to a wall. He reloaded his shotgun, pelting the undead before running out of his clip. He knew that there was a bus on the other side of the building, but he wasn't sure if he could make it. He was out of bullets and out of luck it seemed.

Turning behind him he grabbed onto the chain linked fence behind him, hauling himself up to get to the other side. He paused at the top to scour for his group, only to find the bus he had been aiming for was now driving far away down the road.

His heart dropped to his stomach. He had no clue in what to do. A loud bang brought his attention back to the main issue. The fact that there was still a tank driving its way into the prison. More chunks flew from it's crippled concrete flesh.

He spotted Daryl as he made a jump towards the tank.

"Daryl!" He called out desperately trying to get the man's attention, but it was to no avail. The man was now running in the opposite direction with Beth in tow.

The tank blew from the inside, it almost gave small jump from the explosion. .

Panic was now settling in and his breath was coming quicker. He didn't see his Dad anywhere, and the only people he saw left was the Governor's posse. They kept walking forward firing rapid rounds of ammunition. His ears rang from the piercing sounds. He brought his hands up to his ears to try and block out the deafening noises.

The wire from the fence was starting to dig into the upper part of his thigh as he still sat perched upon the fence. Walkers were clawing, reaching for the teen. Carl took one last desperate look around the destroyed dystopia. Then he saw his last hope.

What seemed like a mile away at the front opening of the main gates, Michonne was loading his unconscious father into the back of a car. His father's face was beaten and bloody to where almost he was having issues identifying him. His leg was wrapped with a cloth that was stained a deep red and seemed like only a filter for the red substance pouring out of his leg. The woman looked around quickly, she was trying to slice walkers while also getting to the driver's seat. Not once did she look for or spot Carl. She probably thought he was on that bus.

"Michonne!" He screamed. "Please Michonne wait for me!"

Carl had always tried to be a strong kid. He had to be in these times, but in that moment.

His heart was breaking.

His eyes started to water, clouding his vision of anything he tried to look at. His Dad couldn't leave him. He didn't want to be alone.

Wiping his eyes he hopped over to the other side of the fence, he made a dash to hopefully intercept the car in its path and get a ride to safety. His legs pumped with whatever adrenaline he had left. He drew air into his lungs so fast he thought they'd burst from pressure.

He cut through the grass, taking the shortest path possible, in his mind he thought he could do it. But his heart could tell he wouldn't be able to catch up no matter how hard he thought he could.

"No no no no no no no." Carl tried to go faster, his vision was blurring rapidly by the second.

He sunk to his knees as the salted tears toppled over.

Had he admitted defeat?

What was he going to do now? He didn't see anyone left. Only walkers, which he knew that more would be drawn in from the loud noises. Wiping his nose, he stood up on shaky legs. He headed back towards the interior or the prison to hopefully grab anything that would help him as he went to find his father again. Luckily the interior wasn't so destroyed that it was easy for the walkers to get in.

He climbed over the rubble, landing with a small thud. He made a quick dash for his room, grabbing his bag and his pistol. The memories that he had made in here were now nothing to him, he had to move on to survive. There was no more looking in the past.

Before anymore walkers could get any closer and horde up, he excited to the road by shimmying through a newly created crack, only slightly grazing his knee in the process. Carl took one last look at his used to be home.

On his way out he grabbed a not so battered bike, he reasoned that it would cut down on his walk time and give his feet a rest. He swallowed all feelings as he lifted himself up on his bike, he was on his own for the first time in his life.

He first started by following the way he saw tire tracks going. He knew that this was probably his safest bet. Looking down the road he saw nothing, just long, far streaching road. He swallowed the lump in his throat .

The path ahead of him was long, this was his coming of age.

This was his journey.

-Fizzydrink101