#2
"I've got this." said Evelyn confidently as the four of them entered the house through its dilapidated front door.
She crept into the living room and sighed with relief; it was evident that there no walkers here. Or at least, not in this part of the house.
"Levi, go sit down. You two, stay with him." she ordered.
Calliope looked up at Lily uncomfortably, clearly hesitant about taking care of the man who she had almost shot earlier. Lily shook her head almost imperceptibly but the stern expression on her face was all that Callie needed to understand. She moved over to the other side of the room whilst Lily stood next to the couch on to which Levi had collapsed, clutching his burned leg.
Her examination of the first floor was completely uneventful; there were no walkers to be found here. Perhaps the basement would be a different story. Too impatient to wait for the twins to come down with her, she descended the stairs to the basement and silently opened the door, peering behind it just in case. No hidden surprises.
She traveled deeper into the basement, clenching her teeth together in an attempt to not shiver. It was mostly bare and empty, save for a few old and dusty appliances here and there. A washing machine lay silent and still, filled with long abandoned clothes.
No matter how many epochs would pass since the outbreak, she knew that it would always feel strange to enter the home of another. It felt... intrusive. Each house had its own story, and that story was relayed to her by the possessions of its once proud members. Pictures. Toys. Clothes.
Clothes... The thought made her edge closer to the washing machine until she was near enough to crouch down and gaze at the obfuscated door. She reached forward and wiped away the layer of accumulated dust so that she could gaze through the transparent washing machine door rather than at it. Pressed up against it was what looked like a glittery, white dress with light blue ribbons adorning it. She grabbed the handle and opened the door eagerly, pulling the white dress out and laying it flat against the top of the washing machine.
As she had suspected, the dress was not meant for adults. It was a child's dress and it looked as if it might fit Calliope perfectly. The thought of that adorable little girl donning this outfit was enough to bring a smile to her face. Callie was like a link to Evelyn's old life, something which she had all too often forgotten. Once upon a time, life could be enjoyed. She had thought of her career back then as exceedingly difficult and it was often the source of a lot of stress. Now, that stress seemed laughable in the face of what she had to do every day, just to survive.
She would have given anything to go back and be a schoolteacher again. Her class had been perfect, why could she not have appreciated and cherished it back then?
Taking things for granted is part of human nature. she thought to herself, her breath becoming ragged as she fought back tears. God damn it, I miss them...
It was astounding that the mere sight of a child's dress could make her feel this way. It was a symbol of happier times but, at the same time, it was just an object. The same, obviously, could not be said for Calliope. Calliope was a living, breathing link to her old humanity. If Lily decided to stay with them, Evelyn would be able to relive her old days as a schoolteacher and maybe, just maybe-
The sudden sound of hissing immediately snapped her out of her deep reverie. Before she had even turned around to view whatever horror had awoken in the basement, she already knew what would be facing her. The girl's dress did not, after all, exist in a vacuum. It had once belonged to someone.
Her prescience, however, did not make things any easier.
The tiny, emaciated body stumbled towards her, blank, pupil-less eyes staring directly into hers. She moved gingerly towards Evelyn, mouth dripping a mixture of blood and saliva, a horrible rattle emanating from her throat. Judging by her state of weakness, even walkers needed nourishment.
Evelyn unsheathed her fire iron and gripped it firmly, raising it up until a quick thrust would end the poor thing's existence. The longer she stared at it, though, the more horrific her possible action became. This thing was not human. In fact, it was exactly that: a thing. Despite that, Evelyn's hands would not move. She couldn't comprehend what the issue was; she had killed countless adult walkers, what did it matter if it was a child walker? Even assigning these human concepts to the corpses was illogical. They were not adults or children, they were dead, rotting objects.
"I can't do it..." she whispered to herself, overcome with pity as she watched the walker collapse to the floor and attempt to crawl towards her.