You didn’t know where to go, you didn’t have a plan or any damn idea what to do. Your conscience told you again that you should run away to escape the horror that fate had bound you to… You pushed the pictures out of your mind, you didn’t want to experience those moments in your head again. Hershel’s hair intertwined like silk with your bloodstained fingers. You wanted to close your eyes, to forget everything. Although you held his head in your hands, you didn’t have the courage to look at him. You had to find an accommodation, but as far away from the prison as possible. You wondered why the group did not set up an escape plan, or at least a meeting place in case you got separated. It felt strange that Rick hadn’t thought of it so thoroughly. On the other hand, you didn’t know him at all. You didn’t know any of them. You had gotten into a stupid battle and had sided with yourself because you felt guilty, responsible… And besides, you had made a good bond with everyone in such a short time that you yourself were astonished. But it was useless to think about what had happened, because your decisions were now past. You felt your lungs collapse and beg for mercy. So you stopped running and leaned against a tree. No Walkers were around, but you noticed a big red X on the opposite tree. Someone had marked a path. It would probably have taken you to a shelter or hut. Thus, you went a little further and hoped to find the symbol again. And so it was. You also hoped that the goal was not too far away. Your body barely responded to your orders… You were exhausted, tired, hurt, and only on your feet thanks to the determination. At that time you couldn’t afford to give up. Dedication only led to one thing: It meant choosing death. However, after about an hour, all good intentions collapsed and you collapsed with them. You found yourself lying on the ground. The sun shone and irradiated the surroundings with her warmth while you would have liked a fresh breeze. As much as you tried to think of something else, your mind moved back to your actual feelings. You feared for the lives of the others…

“The good guys in this world can not survive.”

You’ve heard that phrase so many times before. But you didn’t want to believe it. However, you knew it was true, everything you’ve experienced so far proved it. You were now a self-reliant survivor that hadn’t proved difficult in the past, but the problem was that you had made it a habit to put people in your heart. And the bullet hole on the leg was now causing pain and annoyance again… Daryl came into your unconscious mind and reminded you that he wanted to cut a hole in your pants to make sure that the bullet wasn’t in there anymore. But you didn’t have a hole in the back of your thigh, which meant that the object was still in your flesh. You should have gotten it out, but at first you wanted to reach the desired shelter and maybe surround yourself with that silence that would finally make you realize what had actually happened. Of course, you were clear in the head, but this story wasn’t processed yet… You didn’t have the time and as long as you were busy, you focused on getting to safety. You knew you would collapse when you were in this hut after shutting the door behind you. When you had recovered the few powers that were still in your body, you picked yourself up and ran on. Daryl’s crossbow swayed on your back and swung to the rhythm of your sketchy steps. It was definitely not a heavy weapon, but unfortunately it felt like it now. It was probably just a desperate attempt of your body to ask for mercy again. Your brain struggled with you, trying to project the faces of the group in every way. Rick, Beth, Glenn, Maggie, Carol, Carl, Judith, Michonne and Daryl. Suddenly, you saw a dozen Walkers in the distance, hungry for fresh meat. You took a few steps back, careful not to make any noise. Maybe you had the opportunity to avoid them, they hadn’t noticed your presence yet. You went back immediately. Your legs were as heavy as cement. So you needed to find a solution as soon as possible before the living dead could reach you, but a lonely Walker stood out of nowhere in front of you, trying to sink his rotten teeth into your shoulder. Suddenly you had an idea… This lonely Walker was the solution to move unnoticed between the other Walkers. So you killed him and smeared his guts and blood on your body. He also had a backpack on his back. When you opened it you found a diary, a bottle of water, two glasses of fruits and a torch. You were curious to read the diary, but you knew it would hurt… The water bottle was full, but you did not know if you could drink it. Dirty and stinking, you returned to your search. You crossed a clearing and often walked beside the Walkers. You couldn’t quantify how much time had passed, but found a shelter behind some bushes. The structure was made of dark wood, covered with moss and ivy branches. But otherwise it seemed to be in excellent condition. The door was locked, so you went to one of the windows and peered inside. You saw pieces of wood near the fireplace, some blankets and some dishes on a sink. Maybe someone else was living there… You knocked on the glass and waited. Nothing… And so you smashed the glass of the window with your bare hands. When you were in the house, you slowly opened a door, ready to kill when needed, but faced yourself with two single beds that were very clean. Actually, everything seemed to be relatively clean there, in addition to the large layer of dust that covered the whole thing, there was little that was out of place. It was possible someone was hunting or gone on an expedition… The entrance had been closed. It wasn’t an abandoned place. You just hoped that they were good people. There were also a few rags on the floor. You checked the drawers of a bedside table, curious to learn about the survivors. But nothing, they were all empty. You changed rooms and examined the bathroom. Many dirty clothes had been thrown in a corner. On the sink you saw a toothbrush and a blood-soaked razor blade. The last room was another bedroom with additional cots, four in all. But they seemed to have never been used, unlike the other two beds in the living room. On the table you saw a glass and a dislocated chair. Everything gave you the idea that only one person lived there. But it was just a hypothesis. In the closet there were many supplies of food. You wanted to take some glasses, but you thought it would be better not to touch anything. Then you turned around and looked at the window. Well, the person would have been angry anyway… And shortly after that thought, you already heard a few steps. In fear, you grabbed a gun and positioned yourself on the wall next to the front door so you could immediately point it at his head. A key slowly snapped into the lock. You tried not to make no noise so as not to be noticed by the person who was soon inside. The handle lowered and the door moved forward. A baseball cap covered part of his face and you couldn’t see his facial features well. The man raised his hands to his shoulders as if to surrender. Then you removed the gun and took a few steps back. He turned and you looked at each other. As soon as you could see his face clearly, you lowered the weapon and he did the same, because he recognized you too…

“Well… Long time no see…”, he said with a false smile: “This time without your friend with the sword?”

The man you had taken the plaid shirt away stood before you, alive and well. For some strange reason, you were happy to see him. You had met him in an ironic situation and talked to him for only an hour to teach him and his friend how to go unnoticed among the Walkers, and yet he gave you positivity.

“You too?”, you just asked.

He looked down and forced his lips into a grimace. It made you realize that he was alone, his friend was dead. You secured the gun again, so you did not want to have any problems and he put a shotgun on the table, closed the door and threw himself on the couch.

“Did you come to kick me out again?”

“No, I will not kick you out and I see, you have settled in well…”

He shrugged his shoulders.

“Yeah… You know… He was a good man, now I’m alone, but you… Don’t you have a group?”, he asked, pretending not to remember.

Your fingers sank into the armrest of a chair. He noticed it and an answer was no longer necessary. Then he looked at you again and noticed your physical condition.

“Listen, I’m not an asshole. Do not get me wrong, you can stay to rest for a while, but I want you to go later, okay? One day, or two at most.”

It had gone better than you thought. The accommodation was quiet, the current owner as well. The next day, you convinced him to extend your stay if you wanted to. Actually, it was good for you to spend a day alone, just to mentally and physically recover. Then you would have to clarify how you would organize in the future.

“It’s okay, I don’t need to justify myself.”

This familiar face had relieved you temporarily...

The cold water from the shower benefited your body. It was like waking from a long dream, a nightmare, to be exact. The previous owner had had some pipes and managed to connect the house to a nearby spring, more your friend couldn’t tell you. There was even a piece of soap on the edge of the tub, but you didn’t even think about using it. You still had your hygiene in mind, though it seemed ironic. It was like throwing all these pictures down the drain, it was like leaving the fresh past behind. Dust, pain, death. Everything… You crossed your arms, put your hands on your shoulders and closed your eyes. The icy drops of water sang sinfully along your body, reminding you that you were still alive. In one way or another, you survived and had to go on… Maybe the guy you had the plaid shirt from did not want to tell you his name, but you were sure he was sorry. You don’t think he really wanted to kick you out, but he still had to act with some severity. Now that the wound was clean, you were able to pull the bullet out. You dug the tip of a knife blade into the hole and gritted your teeth. It was extremely painful… The bullet fell to the floor and you wiped the wound with a clean rag. The bathroom door suddenly swung open and made you flinch. Your friend had the gun back in his hand.

“I knew I couldn’t trust you!”, he shouted but you didn’t understand what had happened. Then, suddenly, your brain found out the cause.

“You’re a psychopathic murderer!”, he yelled again in your direction.

“Take the gun down! I can explain it!”, you said to him. He stepped forward and put the barrel of his rifle on your chest. At that moment, you were busy thinking about how to calm the guy down.

“Okay, please… Listen to me, it’s not how it seems, I-…”, you started, but the man interrupted you and kept shouting at you: “There’s a damn head in your backpack! It’s not what it looks like? What reasonable person would run around with a damn head in bag?”

He had every reason to react like that, because it really did not sound very normal…

“I’m not a murderer and not a psychopath! That… The head was…”

You couldn’t find the words, your voice began to tremble, swaying between the memories of this terrible scene.

“Hershel, was a friend… He was a special person, I escaped from a war and I took his head with me… Just because I wanted to give him a funeral… He deserves it… I bury him as soon as I find a safe and distant place, far away from where he had to die…”

His eyes softened, he lowered his rifle and rubbed his neck. He felt guilty, embarrassed, and did not add anything. You let out a sigh of relief as he closed the door with his head down and sat on the edge of the tub. Later, when you finished washing your clothes and could put on some new clothes, you reached the living room. Immediately you saw the open backpack and the man at the front door. He had a gray rag in his hand… He had wrapped Hershel’s head in there and pointed to a shovel lying on the sofa. You took it without saying a word and went out with him. You both walked for several minutes until you reached a wonderful place. A field covered with yellow and purple flowers. Their delicate scent was in the air. Such trivial visions gave this cruel world a sort of melancholy. You looked at your acquaintance in disbelief. You knew from the moment you first saw him in the pharmacy that he was a good person, but you never thought he was so sensitive and emotional. This place was perfect. You were not religious, but you wanted to believe that Hershel’s soul appreciated it. It probably wouldn’t have made a difference if you had left him at the prison, but your heart had made you act that way. It had been a spontaneous, unforeseen action… You pushed the shovel into the ground and dug a small ditch. In the meantime, your friend had built a cross with branches and bound them together with ribbons. Meanwhile, lost in an inner monologue you remembered the acts of this kind-hearted man, the few that you could see, but which were enough to show you that good people still existed and survived. Together… One last time you looked at his hair, then covered the grave with earth and shed some tears in silence. Rest in peace, Hershel Greene…