HEART OF GLASS
CHAPTER SEVEN !

[ season two, episode one ]

The next morning arrived in a blur.

Rick's search for Sophia had been an unsuccessful mission. He spent hours raking through the dusky forest, trampling over thick clusters of twigs and brambles, all while retracing his steps in hopes of finding the missing girl. It was to no avail. He came back alone.

And Marley didn't sleep.

She watched the sky melt into a pool of obsidian, and then she watched as it faded until the stars were no longer clear, dazzling crystals dancing with one another between other constellations as the night zipped by. It was simply an abyss of dull blue the moment the sun rose. The apocalypse had caused the world to lose it's vibrant colours, Marley noticed.

The trees always looked downcast and sad. Flowers just didn't grow anymore. And only on the rare occasion would she see a flock of birds whisk by overhead.

It was sad, really, that Mother Nature had been so determined to end all of humanity that she wound up forgetting to uphold her own. The world was fading right before Her very eyes. She was losing her touch, corrupted by a newfound sense of evil. Cruelty was always cursed.

"Up already?" asked a voice that caused Marley to turn in alarm.

She was standing by the edge of the forest, arms crossed over her chest, looking down into the endless plethora of trees that Sophia disappeared within thirteen hours ago. Her aim was to be the first person the little girl saw when she came back. Daryl and Shane — the other lookouts — might scare her away with their intimidating postures and highly-terrifying weapons.

Marley looked over her shoulder. She was fairly surprised to see it was Andrea approaching.

The blonde woman looked exceptionally tired, too. Like she hadn't slept. The dark circles around her blue eyes were evident enough to assume so, and the tangled mess of hair sitting atop her head showed she had been desperately tossing and turning all night while trying to fall into a much-needed slumber.

She and Marley had that in common.

"Couldn't sleep." Marley said, noticing Andrea had situated herself by the girl's side.

The gentle breeze whistled, tousling the duo's hair into even larger knots. This was the first time they had conversed properly, exchanging more than the odd greeting around the camp back beside Atlanta city. Marley had been far closer to Amy . . . before she died. They used to be a notorious duo to many, sharing the same hatred for Merle Dixon and irritation for Shane Walsh. They enjoyed gossiping on the rare occasion, too. More than enjoyed; they revelled in it.

The grief of Amy's death had been short lived as a result of the harrowing events that occurred after — the walkers infiltrating camp, the CDC, Jim. . . too much. It was like she wasn't even gone sometimes. Like she was still here, laughing along with Dale's terrible jokes and making god-awful origami birds out of book pages with Sage in an effort to cheer her up whenever she felt down.

But Amy was gone. Buried six feet beneath the dirt back at the quarry — alongside the other victims of the bloody and unforgettable night.

Now, Amy Harrison was a mere memory, and that's what hurt the most.

Andrea gripped the splintered fence and cast a brief glance toward Marley, "Nightmares?"

"Not this time."

She and Andrea exchanged a look consisting of a tight-lipped smile and narrowed eyes that shone with intuition. Andrea understood. It would be a rare occasion for her to slip into a slumber and wake up completely unscathed by the repetition of events that scarred her mind and soul, whirring around her brain tauntingly. Usually, Marley could relate.

"It feels like they've . . . come to life." Marley said hesitantly, avoiding Andrea's gaze in hopes she wouldn't see a look that undoubtedly disagreed with her twisted thoughts. "The things I dream of — they're happening when I'm not asleep. All the time. It feels like I can't escape them."

Much to her surprise, Andrea nodded. Her chest rose and fell dramatically as she released a shuddering breath from between pouted lips. The ghost of a smile haunted her mouth. It seemed like she was thankful to finally pull the heavy weight of her next words from her back.

"Well, I'm glad I'm not the only one."

Marley's eyes flickered to the woman's narrow face. She mirrored Andrea's smile, a slight flutter of warmth blooming in the centre of her chest.

Maybe she wasn't as alone as she thought she was.

Around an hour later, the group gathered around an abandoned car. An assortment of steel blades were spread out across the grimy bonnet. Carl had been the one to find the leather fold, and he grinned pridefully when Marley swatted his tuft of jet-black hair to congratulate his fortunate eyesight.

Rick stood at the front of the car, gesturing to the steel weapons. "Everybody takes one."

Obliging to his orders, Marley curled her fingers around the hilt of a knife. It was small enough to throw. Small enough for a child to use. Instinctively, Marley's eyes found Sage's. The younger sister had her arm coiled around the eldest's, and her widened eyes jerked around their dangerous surroundings anxiously.

Marley slipped the new knife out of her belt loop. She brought her bottom lip between her teeth, chewing down on the chapped skin as she debated her choices. Sage was empty-handed, not a weapon in sight, which was pretty much a death sentence at this point — fate sealed to the walkers. As her guardian, Marley couldn't allow that.

She tapped the girl on the shoulder.

"What?" Sage signed swiftly. Her grip around her sister's arm tightened, and it became apparent to Marley that her sister was inordinately fearful. The herd traipsing through the minefield of abandoned cars was still in play in Sage's mind several hours later. She was afraid it would happen again. That she would lose everyone. That she would die a brutal death.

However, Sage's face practically flickered to life like a Christmas tree when Marley showed her the small knife.

"You need this."

It scintillated in the sun, splayed across Marley's fingers. Sage hesitated for a split second. She looked to Marley for approval, and when she got a quick nod in return, her fingers curled around the knife's sleek handle eagerly.

"Are you sure?" Sage asked. She didn't look up from the blade, turning it over once, twice, and then thrice until the exterior was memorised in her brain.

Marley nodded. "I trust you. Just . . . be careful. And tuck it into your belt loop."

Whilst taking care not to maim herself with the sharpened knife, Sage carefully pushed the blade through her belt loop. It hung there carelessly, grazing the fabric of her denim jeans. She looked at Marley, noticing the machete dangling by her thigh, and mimicked her poised stature.

They all turned their attention to Daryl.

"The idea is to take the creek up about five miles," he told the onlookers, adjusting his grip around his crossbow. "turn around, and come back down the other side. Chances are she'll be by the creek."

"It's her only landmark." Rick added. "Stay quiet, and stay sharp. Keep space between you, but always stay within sight of each other."

Marley inhaled sharply, her eyes wandering down the cluttered highway. A lone walker staggered toward them from the very end of the straight road — too far to be deemed a threat, but too close for the group to stay there any longer.

They took off in the direction of the dusky woods around mid-day. The sky was a stark blue in juxtaposition to the pale clouds, and the wind was a humid gust of air that whisked over Marley's skin, tangling her ash-blonde locks. She and Sage stumbled along behind Lori and Carl, traipsing through the overgrown shrubbery in complete silence.

Around a half-hour into the hike, Daryl paused and crouched down, holding his hand up in a gesture for everyone else to follow. Marley shuffled to the front, ducking beside Andrea. Sage obeyed with reluctance when Marley told her to stay back with Lori.

She looked ahead. A lone tent sat between thick branches and bushes, almost fully concealed by the deep-green trees.

"She could be in there." Shane observed nonchalantly.

"Could be a whole bunch of things in there." Daryl countered quietly in an effort to stay concealed from the dangers that could be lurking nearby.

He crept forward, cautiously stepping over sticks and crunchy leaves with his crossbow pointed at the sickly-green tent. His tracking skills were coming into use well. Marley was positively baffled by how quiet Daryl was in comparison to Shane who trudged along behind, loud enough to draw unwanted attention.

"Carol." Rick hissed. He whispered something into her ear, and she nodded, trepidation bleeding through her expression.

They approached the tent, and the woman stepped forward.

"Sophia," Carol called out gently. "Sweetie? Are you in there? It's Mommy — it's mommy, Sophia."

When the tent emitted no sound — no voice, no whimper, no nothing — Rick and Shane moved toward the half-open flap beside Daryl. The latter was the only one to duck beneath the stained nylon, coughing and spluttering in disgust at something Marley and the others could not comprehend just yet.

When he came back out moments later, Daryl shook his head. "It ain't her," he assured.

"What's in there?" Marley asked, quick go voice everyone else's immediate thoughts.

"Some guy," Daryl said, unclenching his jaw and continuing to maintain a strong grip on the hilt of his knife, despite a lack of danger. "Did what Jenner said. Opted out. Ain't that what he called it?"

Memories of the CDC and everything leading up to that resurfaced in Marley's mind as a result of the Dixon's words. Amy, Jim, Jacqui. The grief they all suffered simultaneously. The realisation that regaining any sense of normality was now an impossible task. The death that they all knew was soon to occur. And now Sophia was missing . . . All hope seemed to be lost.

Andrea heard Marley's shaky intake of breath, and placed a hand on her shoulder, rubbing a soothing circle as she said, "Hey, we're gonna find her, alright?"

No matter how much the statement felt wrong, Marley nodded.

And then a sudden, almost imperceptible chime of church bells rang in the distance.

The group's taut expressions dropped, their mouths falling agape with an overwhelming surge of disbelief and curiosity. Marley and Glenn exchanged a bewildered look, and then — without even questioning it — the band of survivors sprinted in the direction of the chiming.

The first thing they came across was a graveyard. Hundreds of stone humps poking out from the ground, decomposed flowers scattered across the plots. Perched in the corner of the small field and illuminated by the sun's dull rays was a white church. There was their source of noise.

"That can't be it," Shane said, holding his shotgun in front of chest. "Got no steeple, no bells."

Rick made a beeline toward the wooden building of worship regardless, determined to find something that may lead them to the little girl he blamed himself for losing in the woods.

Soon enough, they all followed behind.

Rick and Daryl were the first to race up the steps leading to the large red door, gesturing for the others to keep quiet and keep their positions. As a precaution, Marley gripped Sage's hand as she watched the two men shove open the double doors, a resounding squeak emanating form the rusted hinges.

The three walkers inside whirled around lethargically.

Rick, Shane and Daryl slashed machetes across the undead's skulls and kicked their inanimate bodies to the ground. The chances of being eaten alive dropped from slim to none.

Almost immediately, they began their search for Sophia.

* . •. ° 。

While a select number of their group searched the area for missing Sophia Peletier, Marley joined Carl Grimes outside.

Sage was inside, taking a break. Many of the others stayed in the church too, either to pray or silently beg for the Lord's mercy. Some pretended they hadn't stumbled upon a church — too ashamed by the sins they would never forgive themselves for to acknowledge it's presence. But most did what they had to do; find a way to perpetuate and build up their strength to support Carol, the heartbroken mother.

As Marley picked at the shards of grass outside, she realised she didn't believe in much. Sure, she believed in fate, the evolution of events beyond a individual's control that inevitably led you to either good situations or terrible ones. She believed in good luck and bad luck, luck in general. Sitting outside of the church, she realised it was God and the religion as a whole that she didn't truly believe in.

Or maybe she just didn't know. But the questions remained. Why would a man with such great power let something as terrible as flesh-eating corpses repopulate the earth? Why? How could He let so many people die such a brutal death?

But, perhaps this was their punishment. They deserved it, for their sins, for the bloodshed, for the conflicts, for the war that unravelled at the hands of the most powerful people on earth . . . for destroying His planet.

Mother Nature couldn't do it all alone, right?

"Hey, Marley?."

Carl's soft voice yanked the girl in question out of her stupor.

"Look," he said, holding out a flower. It was a fluffy ball made up of white seeds. "It's a dandelion. My Mom says you can make wishes with these."

Marley arched a brow, leaning back on her hands. Splinters of evergreen grass dug into her calloused palms, but she didn't pull away. "Is that so?"

He nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah! Should I make one? A wish, I mean."

"Well, I'm not a huge fan of wishes myself." Marley stated, gazing up at the sky. It was a sheet of grey, pools of cerulean blue sprouting out from beneath the dull and murky clouds.

Carl grew more inquisitive with Marley's statement. "What do you mean?"

She looked at him, studying the way cogs almost literally swivelled and whirled around beneath his pale-blue eyes. He was far too innocent for this world — a mere child who once had hopes and dreams for a future that were crushed beneath the universe's boot — and she selfishly became overwhelmed with gratitude that he hadn't disappeared off the face of the earth, too.

Like Sophia.

"I don't really mean anything by it." Marley quickly said, hoping his enthusiasm of finding a dandelion hadn't been destroyed by her lack thereof.

"No, tell me." the boy insisted. "Please."

Despite the end of the world, Carl still held onto his politeness.

"Fine," Marley grumbled reluctantly, reaching over to ruffle his jet-black hair. "I don't believe in wishes, almost in the same way some people don't believe in God. Wishes have consequences, if they actually come true, and I've always thought that, ever since I was six."

"Why? What happened to make you believe that?"

A feeble sigh rocked her shoulders. "Well, I used my birthday candles to wish for a bike. I wanted it to be bright pink, with red streamers on the handles and white wheels," she said, a smile tugging her lips as she recalled the memory fondly. "Two days later, guess what?"

Carl's eyebrows shot up with interest. "What?"

"Well, I got the bike." she said with a soft smile, "My Mom took Sage and I to this amazing park as my second birthday present, so I brought my bike, of course. It was the first time I used it. Then, you wanna know the first thing that happened to me?"

Carl nodded again, this time more vigorously.

"I fell off. Broke my ankle, and the fall snapped the handlebars. My Mom thought I was joking at first, but I wasn't. Look." she pulled up the bottom of her jeans on her left leg, and engraved into the pale skin of her ankle was a stark-white, minuscule scar. "Thats from the surgery. Three pins! The little suckers are still in there to this very day."

Carl couldn't help but laugh. A reverberating chuckle that echoed in the abyss of his chest. Marley scowled and playfully shoved him over into the overgrown grass.

"Why are you laughing at my pain?" she demanded skittishly.

"Because I imagined it," Carl said through bubbling laughter. "And it's probably bad luck! I fell off my bike at least twenty times — you're just dramatic."

She gasped dramatically, indefinitely supporting Carl's point. "Just you wait until I tell your mother."

They lapsed into a silence as Carl's giggles ebbed away into nothing. He raised the dandelion in front of his lips — disregarding Marley's silly beliefs — and made a silent wish in his mind. The fluffy seeds scattered across the glass once his breath blew them off the stem, some lingering in the air and blowing aside, drifting toward the church and the trees lining the field behind them. Marley shook her head in disappointment, but didn't speak against his literal wishes, rather letting herself smile.

After all, Carl was just a naive young child. Her beliefs — no matter how stupid they were — didn't matter to him.

"Hey, you two." the duo in question whipped their heads around to smile at an approaching Lori Grimes. "What were you laughin' at? I heard you both from around back." she asked with a smile.

"Marley's dramatic story." Carl said, earning a small slap on the arm from the girl.

"Is that right?" Lori inquired, towering over them both as she ruffled Carl's hair. "It's nice to see you both gettin' along."

Marley nudged Carl and smiled. He mirrored it.

"Listen," Lori said. Her uplifted expression had fell into a anxious grimace. "The group's gonna split up — look for Sophia before heading back to the highway. Carl, I want you to come with me. And Marley, I think it's best if you and Sage do, too."

Marley immediately nodded in approval, pushing herself up from her ground and dusting her already dirtied clothes off.

Carl was not as compliant. He crossed his arms over his chest, "I want to stay with Dad." he argued stubbornly.

"Hey, it's not up for negotiation, Carl." Lori retorted sternly, her eyes widened in her son's direction to show her reluctance — almost like a deer in headlights.

He dropped his head in disappointment and shoved his way through the gap between Marley and Lori's figures.

Deep down, the mother knew he would be safe with her husband. Rick and Shane — the two men of the group who somehow knew exactly what they were doing, certainly more than her. They were stronger, more efficient, brave . . . maybe Carl needed that, a chance to reciprocate their actions for himself so he wouldn't end up like —

No, Lori couldn't think like that. As a mother, it was selfish of her to.

Instead she turned to Marley, wrapping an arm around the adolescent's shoulder. "Alright, let's head back."

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

THIS CHAPTER IS SO BAD
I'm so sorry. I had terrible
writer's block and literally
wrote a load of crap.

ALSO 1K READS HOLY
JDUEOWwmxkelwl.
thanks so much 🥰

next chapter should be
better than this utter
bull crap. :)