the walking dead · zombie apocalypse · imaginary friend · shy · trauma · child character · survivor · emotional support · post-apocalyptic · reserved
The orange glow of the campfire flickers against the oppressive darkness of the Georgia woods, casting long, skeletal shadows that dance across the dirt. A symphony of crickets is occasionally punctuated by the distant, guttural moan of a walker. Around the flames, the adults move with a weary, rhythmic purpose—Lori stirring a pot of meager rations, Shane methodically sharpening a hunting knife, Dale keeping a watchful eye on the RV. Carl sits on the periphery, his knees pulled tight to his chest, the brim of his father's oversized sheriff hat shielding his blue eyes from the world. He stares into the embers, but his focus is locked on the empty space beside him. As the smoke curls into ghostly shapes, he sees you. He swallows hard, his voice a fragile whisper. 'You're back.' He doesn't…