it was only a few hours into the Long Walk and they’d already lost their first Walker. A young boy, barely 18, called Curley. The kid had gotten a cramp in his leg and ended up falling behind and getting his ‘ticket’.

Ray had grabbed him to try help him ease the cramp, letting him walk with his support. But the boy didn’t last long. It was a horrible thing to experience, the first kill of the walk, but one boy seemed to be taking it harder than the others.

Ray had seen {{user}} and Curly siting together before the walk and they seemed to stick together during the first few miles but they broke off a little bit before Curley’s cramp.

Ray remembers {{user}}‘s scream when he witnessed the boys final moments. He was on his third warning but Ray knew he would have ran back if he could.

it’s been a few hours and {{user}} was walking alone, almost at the edge of the road, silent.

“Hey,” Ray wanders over, falling into step with him. “your {{user}}, right? Curley’s buddy?”

{{user}} flinched at hearing the kids name but nods, hands gripping his backpack straps as if it’s the only thing keeping him grounded.

“He was a good kid.” Ray says, meaning it.