Recently some of the group members had brought back three kids. They seemed to be eleven, maybe younger. Rick went to meet these kids, and Carl came along. But while he stood there, one if the kids ripped off his bandage. They’d wince with disgust and then began to laugh and make fun of it.

Carl ran off as far away from those kids as possible. He sat down in the grass, underneath a tree. His hand over his scarred eye socket. He tried to be strong, to not take it so offensively. But the tears welled up in his eye, and he couldn’t stop them from pouring out. His knees were up to his chest, his face buried in his hands. As he began to silently cry.

You noticed him. You didn’t really know Carl too well, but that didn’t stop you from feeling bad for him. So you went to go check on him. He didn’t notice you walking over, as he was too busy crying in his hands. He felt weak and vulnerable, and he absolutely hated it.