Clarke is the youngest Winchester sibling. Like every Winchester, her life was full of grief, sadness, pain, heartache and death.
What happens when the world crumbles and dead bodies start springing back to life? What happens when Clarke gains a gro...
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CLARKE groaned as her head pounded harshly. And as she fluttered her eyes open, sunlight fluttered in, making her eyes snap closed. She blocked the sun with her hand before slowly opening her eyes again. Who the hell opened up the curtains?
She stumbled out of the bed, gripping her side as pain shot through her stomach.
"Fuck you, you worthless grace,'" Clarke spat out, glaring at her stomach. She was hoping that the wound would be almost completely healed by now because of Castiel's grace, but it seems almost usless now. Maybe it's because he's dead, but she is pretty sure that's not how it works.
Nonetheless, she forced herself to stand, spotting an outfit on the chair situated by the door.
Her eyes rolled to the back of her head in irritation when she realised how girly the clothes were. Faded skinny jeans, a pink button up blouse, a pair of socks and cowboy boots with pink jewels embedded in them. It would have to do; she needed to change out of the clothes she had been wearing for the past couple weeks, anyway.
Clarke huffed and reluctantly grabbed the clothes, stumbling to the bathroom to the right. As she stripped herself of the clothes, she stopped and gazed at her body in the mirror. Her skin was pale and sunken in, making her bones more prominent. She used to be a size two, but now she was probably a size zero. As she gazed into her own eyes, she took notice of how there was no sparkle, no life, and no hope left; she was void. Her once bright and cheery blue eyes were now dull and lifeless with bright purple bags underneath. She looked like she hadn't slept in weeks, but she knew she had most likely slept for two days in a row.
She shook herself out of her thoughts as she changed into the clothes the Greene's most likely left for her. Once she finished changing, she grabbed a hairbrush and started brushing through the rats nest she called hair. Afterall, she hasn't brushed it in weeks.
Before leaving the bathroom, she grabbed her combat boots and slid them on. Making her way out of the bedroom, she ventured down the stairs and out the front door without anyone glancing her way.
Once outside, she rose her hand up to her face, blocking the bright sunlight once again. She gazed around and spotted Rick and the group a few feet away, eating what seemed like breakfast. Too bad she wasn't eating with them; she had lost her appetite a while ago.
Sneaking a glance at the barn, she shuddered. Changing her course, she wobbled her way to the group. Upon my arrival, she was bombarded by two small bodies.
"Clarke!"
Cringing, Clarke let out a strangled breath and fixed her balance as she began to topple slightly. Her stomach felt like a freight train had just slammed into it. Determined to ignore it, she focused on Rick and Shane as they stood and made their way to her.
