A/N: I wanted to practice writing and fleshing out characters before writing a fan fiction (Harry Potter) where we know everything about them. This is my try at it and hopefully I will be able to improve with my abilities. I am basing this on the TV show Walking Dead around the time they are in prison and starting after the finale of Walking Dead season 3. So as I begin this story, this may never have an end until the zombie world does.*Evil cackle* This chapter is an introduction to a new point of view, a young OC with the mind of a wise 60 year old. I'm not much for OC's and some of you may not like it too but if you are willing to read with this, Thank you and hope you feel awful. *I wouldn't say enjoy because that would mean I've done a poor job of creating a life inside Walking Dead.* P.S. I am not racist but I just wanted to point out characters we know.

Revised Plot: Takes place after Walking Dead Season 3 Finale.

Disclaimer: I have no part in creating anything involving with the world of Walking Dead. But I hope one day I will be able to :D.

I never once thought about how I would regret spending my time reading books, inside my own little world. I had friends but I rarely went outside without someone having to resort to dragging me out, or for the unavoidable school. I'd rather spend my life inside the comfort of my house, inside my mind filled with words poured into my head by books. I would have been raring to have the chance at a different world. I got my wish and I would be lying to you if I told you this is a better world. I regret the time I wasted inside when I could've rather spend the days with my friends, laughing and having fun. I never once thought that things would drastically take away the beauty and life the world had, that was once taken for granted by me. Now I only have some rare happy moments I relive in, while struggling to get everything in order. We live in the same yet so polarly different world, where it reeks of death and hope is lost as my father would say. I've abandoned the books that were my haven, because I have no time to dwell in someone's predicament and danger. When I have my own.

Chapter One:
Stumbling With Bones

We have been walking for the past month. The blue Ford somewhere along the border of Florida and Alabama, the last remainder of our original belongings besides the clothes and my mom's locket. My leg ached and my body shook from exhaustion, but I remain quietly walking behind my father and mother. I've learned from the past complaining doesn't help and that the sound only attracts them. Our trek inside a forest near dusk is already risky enough with only a gun and the knife sheathed and attached to my belt. I stop walking when I hear a twig snap behind me. We immediately turn around, me with my hunting knife held out ready to strike. I could see the shape of a squirrel scurry off away from us.

"It's just a squirrel." I whisper relieved. I let out a shaky breath and try to calm down my rapid heartbeat.

I don't even flinch when my father shoves past me knocking me to the floor. His face twisted into anger and his eye glinting with madness. Shaking the shock away I stand myself up while my father mumbles something incoherent and continues walking without another word.

What seems like hours pass and soon all hope I had for finding a stable shelter gone for the day. My thoughts soon turn towards my dad who was silently fuming and half-dragging my drowsy mother. He was the one to suggest staying off the roads in case we need to sleep up a tree again and out of sight. At first it was reasonable, but now it seems that taking this route to nowhere in particular have gotten to us.
I smack my dry lips and try to regain the moisture by licking them. If we can't find shelter at least we can try to find water. It's got to be here somewhere or the trees would've been dead without nurture. The weather hasn't helped at all, the sky void of clouds much less grey rainy clouds.

With my thoughts accompanying me I lose track of my surroundings but still keep a heightened sense of hearing. Then I hear it, familiar loud groaning behind us.
My eyes focus on my mom who looks frightened with tear filled eyes. She clutches her oversized cardigan covering the bump on her belly. A strangled whimper escapes her before dad shushes her and tells us to move.

With knife in hand I walk in front of my mom with my dad taking the rear. My jaw clenches in anticipation and sweat beads down on my forehead. I can't help but wanting to take off in a run, but traveling in a month on foot I know enough that by doing that I'm going to be flagging down them.
Then I see it, a rotting corpse moving towards us. One thought processes in my head, there are more of them.
 My lungs expand taking in the forest air as I tear through the forest towing my mom along. Gun fire echoing around us, panicking me to the point where I don't care that my mom is stumbling breathless behind me. Get them out alive.
Trees around me blur and soon they thin out. I ignore my heart hammering on my ribcage and continue to run. The gunshots ceased a long time ago creating the fear for my dad rise in various situations. Maybe he ran out of bullets. Or maybe he…

I couldn't continue that thought because there stood with the last sunlight outlining it. A huge prison looking safer than anything we've encountered for several months. Air was knocked out of me in disbelief as I soon take in the structure properly. Inside the courtyard fenced by barbed wires were those things. Too many to count and they were turned towards us.
"Simon!" My mom gasped and pried herself away from me. I turn towards them still cautious and see my mom fling herself at my dad. He gives her a quick hug and turns towards me.
"Cleared." With one word he made my worry numb. The gunshots stopped because he managed to kill them. His eyes sweep the scenery behind me and he ignores my mom still in embrace as they move towards the jail.

I turn around to see a man and woman. Both pointing guns towards us. The man had black hair and traits from Asia you couldn't miss.
I discretely sheath my knife and look at the corpses that seem to be distracted by clanging of metal in the distance. The woman still looks wary despite a fence separating the corpses from them. But in their shoes they are in a position between them and us. I wouldn't want to be them if we had intentions to harm.
Nobody talked until the man cleared his throat."You have a chance to turn around. It's not safe here." His suggestion came out threateningly but his face remained indifferent.

My dad starts to walk with his gun tucked away in his bag clipped to his belt. But the guy still sees him as danger and points the gun at him with twitching fingers over the trigger.
"Just go." The woman looks at us pleadingly.
"When hell freezes over." I say defiantly. My mom shoots me a look.
"Language young lady!" She reprimanded. I look at the ground before turning towards the man and woman.
"What I mean is that this place. It's safe compared to what we've seen." My voice raises a pitch and volume.
The woman looks at me with pity but I ignore her instead I turn my gaze over to an old man with crutches walking out of the little watch tower. Seeing someone his age alive brought a smile to my face. It slowly drops when I see one of his leg pants stapled back. I drop my eyes to the floor away from his leg wondering how did he survive. Then a thought popped in my head, if he's alive that means this is a safe place.
"Please, we're dying out here." My mom croaks out desperately.
The old man looks at us with an apologizing look before turning back around to the tower. The woman nods to the man and follows.
"My mom's pregnant!" I didn't know if this made any difference but a second later the old man turns to me slowly with the help of his crutches.
My dad gives me a stern look before protectively putting an arm around my mom.
"How long?" The old man asked with a calculating look.
"Hershel..." The other man warned while still having the gun pointed in our direction.
"Dad, Rick wou-"The woman begins.
"About eight months." My mom interrupted with an endearing look at her belly.
"Farah!" My dad seemed to look at her incredulously.
Before anyone could react one of them appeared out of nowhere. My mom jumps away with my dad ready to shoot.
"No!" The woman yells out to him.
"You'll attract the walkers here." She finished.
Then why would they threathen us with a gun if they had that way of thinking?

I walk over to the lone, walker, as they call it and in an instant plunge my knife in its eye. I twist it for good measure and it stops squirming as dark liquid ooze out from its right eye socket.
A gasp emitted from my mom alerted me. I spin around to see her with eyes shut and rubbing her stomach while saying a prayer.
I take out the knife and wipe it at the blades of grass but still keeping it out in my hands.
Finally the old man talked,"Open the gate Glenn." He limps back into the tower much to our confusion and the man and woman's protest.
The man I assume to be Glenn signals us to walk along. We follow at a distant but still side by side.
He dissappears after signaling us to stay where we are. Minutes after the woman staring at us apprehensively, Glenn comes back and opens the gate.

I side stepped my dad bringing me the oppurtunity to enter first. Relief didn't wash over me once I stepped inside with my family. Instead questions that I pushed to the back of my mind barreled in filling every space in my head. But one was more pronounced clearly than the others.

Is it really safe here?

A/N: So I finally finished the first chapter. I hope you liked this beginning and hope to see reviews. Constructive criticism allowed and hopefully no flames. Please review and come back next time I post the next chapter. You never know when is the last.