Song for the chapter: Born to Die by Lana Del Rey (Listen to this before you read the chapter please!)
Devastation. Loss. Grief and pain. I knew it all too well.
There was always hate, violence, and death in the world, but in an apocalypse things were different. Problems like gender equality, racism, and LGBT rights didn't matter anymore. In this world little children were taught to shoot first and ask questions later.
Right or wrong no longer existed. In our world there was such thing a laws, rules, or regulations. When humans walk among the dead we were only left with three options; kill each other, kill ourselves, or kill only the dead. Either way we had to learn how to survive.
The kill or be kill mentality often poisoned the minds of the weak and harden the psyche of the supposed strong. I somehow fell in the middle of it all.
I had been on my own for one year. One whole year moving from place to place hiding wherever it was safe during the night and walking in the streets during the day. I walked each day without a known path. All I knew is if I stayed in one place for too long the Walkers would eventually migrate to my isolated area and rip me to shreds.
Every day I awaited death. I invited knowing that it was only a matter of time before I was another victim. Just like all the others that died around me because heaven knows people like me don't usually last long. I would have never survived. I would have never lived so long without the man upstairs, the help of my sister, and the doctors she knew from work. They could perform miracles on anyone. I was a miracle.
Once I found out I could survive the apocalypse, I learned how to fight to protect myself even if it went against everything I believed in. The very thought of being labeled a killer was plausible for me, but I still hated it. The blood lust pulsing through my veins every time I boldly killed a group of Walkers caused me to have vivid nightmares. The idea of loathing my lifestyle as a killer made me sound weak, when I was really moralistic. Before that apocalypse occurred, I was a kind, patient sixteen year old girl, but that was four years ago, and I could no longer say the same.
I was nineteen going and twenty years old and as the days passed by, so did what was left of my humanity. Sometimes I would spend hours just staring at the rotting walls of an old restaurant or motel talking to myself. Spending a year without any human contact could drive anyone mad, but then something suddenly clicked. I walked the streets on one smoldering hot day to find a fenced in place guarded by some overweight white male with a mullet on his head.
"How do you do?" He was cradling some sort of rifle in his arms.
"What?" I asked exhausted from the scorching hot sun beaming down on my dark brown skin.
"Uh… I'm sorry. Let me introduce myself, the name's Eugene."
"Ok… and my name is Nea Frey." There was a black gate behind Eugene with the word Alexandria located at the top of the black bars.
"Is this a community where people live?" I asked even if it seemed like a stupid question. It was obvious at least one person lived there, and where there is a fence or wall there is a community.
"Yes. You need to meet our leader before we let you in, his name is Rick Grimes. Wait here," Eugene informed, and I just stood there trying to wait patiently.
I prepared myself for the worst aware that there leader Rick Grimes or whatever his name was would probably not be happy about seeing a new face. He would probably try to rob me of my book bag, and then shoot me in the head. I was completely fine with the last alternative, someone would finally end my suffering.
Eugene opened the gate, and he unlocked the chain that was located on the arch shaped wooden door in the center of a massive brick wall that seemed to separate the entire community from the outside world. Eugene was gone for several minutes, and I was accompanied by flies and the sound of bees buzzing around me. I began counting to sixty in my head, and if he didn't not return in sixty seconds I was planning on leaving whether it was a safe place for me to live or not. Thirty seconds passed, and I saw a man with long, skinny legs and greasy, curly hair walk through the wooden door and opened gate. He appeared to be around forty years old, and to some women who craved older, rugged looking men he would have been a dream.
He gazed me with one eye squinting from the sunlight, I assumed. Rick was this tall and foreign man who seemed tired, oppressed, and above all weighed down by grief.
I looked down at his hand clutching onto a gun strapped against his waist. Rick fashioned a police officer uniform causing unwanted memories to invade my brain.
"How many Walkers have you killed? How many people have you killed?" Rick abruptly pestered me with an intimidating glare in his eyes. I could tell he was someone only a fool would try to double cross, and in the past four years I had done some foolish things.
"Those are good questions officer Grimes, and I wish I could answer them, but I can't."
Rick glared at me as if I was a cockroach underneath his shoe. I was nothing to him, but another soulless dead body. He pointed his gun directly at me forehead.
"I am going to ask you again. How many people have you killed?"
I took two steps back away from the gun being head towards my forehead, and I gave Rick and tried and angry glare.
"I just told you I don't know," I emphasized not holding back on my clear annoyance.
"You've got three seconds."
"1, 2,…"
Rick cocked his gun, and I took a deep breath. "Two people," I spoke up before Rick fire the gun.
"I killed two people. And I was forced to kill them, so don't go assuming the worst. I am not a killer. I am just a nineteen year old young woman trying to survive, and I have been on my own for one year, so I am asking you to at least give me a chance. I won't cause any trouble," I confessed looking Rick directly in his eyes. No one could intimidate me anymore. The quiet, good girl that I was before the apocalypse died and was now replaced with a void monster.
Rick put the gun down and he glanced over at Eugene whispering something in his ear. Eugene nodded swiftly like a little obedient dog, and then he walked through wooden door located on the brick wall.
"Are you armed?" Rick asked me appearing like he was getting ready to search me for proof.
"Not really, the only weapon I have is this dagger and two knives." I pulled it out of the side of my black skinny jeans. Then I reached inside of my laced black boots and grabbed two throwing knives. I briefly looked down at my attire realizing I was dressed in old colors for the summer. I wore a pair of black skinny jeans, a red and black plaid short sleeved top, and the black laced boots. My long dark brown hair was hanging straight down my back as usual, and I noted that no matter how humid the weather got my hair would always fall straight.
Rick grabbed my attention again, when he snatched my weapons away from me aggressively. I glared at him like he was insane.
"Come on, you're coming with me," he replied. Rick locked the black gate, and then we strode through the arched door way and into the community.
My eyes scanned the sight of the foreign territory, and I was less than impressed. The place didn't smell like old horse bile, so that was an improvement. The scent of rotting flesh and dried blood was replaced with fresher, cleaner air. The houses that we passed by were moderate in size, but the greatest down fall were the people who were standing outside gazing upon me. All the attention from the people in the community made me feel uneasy as if I was an unwelcome, untrustworthy, and an intruder.
Rick and I finally came to a halt when we arrived at one of the larger, immaculate looking white painted homes.
"I want to keep my eye on you until I know you can be trusted, so you'll be staying with me for this week. Then if you prove your loyalty we'll find you somewhere to stay, but if you are with Negan or someone else that poses a threat to my family and this community I'll kill you," Rick professed, and all I could do was nod like a little female dog. It was a matter of life and death, and I was willing to accept Rick's laws, even if it was temporary.
Rick eye's burned into mine like he was trying to test me. He wanted to know whether not he was allowing a murderer into his home, although I had already told him I was innocent.
"Good," he finally voiced with a sinister smirk painted on his face. I would have given anything to wipe off his smirk permanently, but I knew I was outnumbered.
Rick opened the door of his home, and I took in the image of the modern, middle class living area. The house smelled like fresh oak.
"Carl! Michonne!" Rick shouted with his voice echoing throughout the corridor. My eyes widen as my heart began to race.
"What is it dad?" A young teenage boy said. He stood at the top of the stairs with a white bandage over his eye, dressed in a plaid shirt and blue jeans. Based on the expression from the uncovered part of his face he looked bewildered like he was expecting Rick to pronounce someone as dead. His bewildered expression soon faded though as his eyes caught me standing beside Rick, and I tried my best to make my face neutral. The boy gazed at me as if I were an alien or some kind of fictional creature come to life. His blue eye scanned me, and I felt more uncomfortable in his presence than Rick's. The boy appeared to be around seventeen years old, and I had experience with the many strange gestures of teenage boys.
"Carl this is our new member and temporary house guest. Her name is Nea Frey, she will be living with us until we know whether or not she can be trusted," Rick told his son.
"Oh," was all the boy had to say. He watched me just like Rick stalked me. They both stared at me like I was trash they would soon dispose of.
"Where is Michonne?" Rick asked, and I almost flinched.
"I don't know. I think she said something about going to visit Carol."
"Well, when she comes back make sure she knows about our situation."
"Ok dad," Carl answered like he was ready for his father to go away.
"Rick opened the front door about the exit the home, when there was a person on the other side of door. It was a dark brown skinned woman with long dreads, and a tall, slim frame.
"Nea?" The woman was clearly in shock.
"Hey auntie Michonne," I greeted her in a severe state of distress.
AN: CARL! Hahaha. Hello peoples this is my first The Walking Dead fanfiction as you can probably tell. I'm sorry if this was poorly written, I have a ton of other stuff to write so my brain is really crowded.
I hope I didn't ruin anyone's day with my bad writing.
Anyway, I am currently on season 5 of The Walking Dead. My older sister and I started watching it over Spring Break. We only have three more episodes left to watch. (Cries).
Also if you like chapter 1 of this fic then let me know with favs, follows, or reviews. Because I refuse to waste my time writing something no one likes. Lastly, if you thought this was an ok chapter tell me what you want me to write next. Where should the story go from here?
Don't be afraid to message me!