AN: So my first one, Woohoo! I have read so many fantasical stories. I swear I love them all. The problem is that I am not a super creative person. I am however a control freak. My obsession with Carol kicking ass is never quite satisfied, hence the need to just give in and try to write it. So if I have inadvertently used someones ideas, I am truly sorry. I admire so many authors and honestly cannot keep track of what I have read, and what my puny little brain has concocted. Either way I hope you all enjoy as I try to satisfy my "Carol is the ultimate bad ass" addiction.

It all happened so fast...

We were not prepared. Maybe we had gotten too comfortable. Maybe we were distracted by all the drama surrounding us. I'll never know how it started, but I will never forget the events that followed.

The farm had felt like a sanctuary. Peaceful. Sophia's death hurt. Oh god it hurt so bad. But this was the new reality. Somewhere deep inside I had hoped. Against all odds I had hoped that she had found someway to survive. That wasn't meant to be I guess. The others had so much going on that I didn't understand. There were definite signs that things in this group were fractured. I guess I didn't realize the severity of it all until Shane was dead. I suppose he had gone a little crazy, but then again, hadn't we all?

Maybe Rick was really the one who had gone crazy. The truth about what transpired between the two that evening will never be known. I have my suspicions but I don't know for sure who was right, or wrong. Regardless, that is there story, not mine.

"What was that?"

A shot rang out through the night. Randall had escaped. Daryl, Rick, Shane and Glen had gone out to search for him. Had Randall found a gun? Was everyone alright? Carol could not help but to worry about the guys. She had come to care for them, each in different ways, but all were important to her.

Maybe if she were honest with herself, she would admit that she was most worried about Daryl. Unable to pinpoint when it happened, but something definitely did happen. When she first met the Dixon brothers she was afraid of them. Something about them was dangerous. Merle was loud and disrespectful, Daryl quiet and withdrawn. The Dixon's were meant for this world. They knew how to take care of themselves.

Surprisingly though, Carol began to notice how much they took care of the rest of the group as well. Despite Lori's judgmental attitude and Andrea's open disgust for poor white trash, they still provided food for the group. They were watchful, protectors. They did it without expectation of gratitude. It was just their way.

When Merle disappeared, Carol noticed how much it had hurt Daryl. He had a wall up for sure, but Carol saw him. Really saw him. He was angry, and torn between staying with the group and going after his brother. The group needed him whether they wanted to admit it or not. He knew this, but making a decision was killing him.

He felt as though he was giving up on Merle. Maybe that's why when Sophia went missing Daryl wouldn't give up on her. Maybe it was his way of redeeming himself for Merle. Maybe it really was because he didn't have anything better to do. Carol didn't care. She was so grateful to him no matter what his motive was. He kept her hope alive. And when all hope was truly gone, he brought peace to her. Peace was a hard thing to come by these days. I guess that is why the farm had seemed like such a godsend. They had found a rhythm there. A new way of life. No one thought it would end the way it did.

"I cant find Carl!"

Of course. Carol was not shocked that Carl had disappeared. Again. And of course it was at the worst time possible. Everyone was on the front porch looking at the biggest herd of walkers they had ever seen. And Carl was missing. Carol's mind was frantically thinking of what they should do. Where were the guys? Where the hell was Carl? What were they going to do? It was like a fox had gotten into the hen house. People were running around aimlessly, people were missing. It was complete chaos. Carol was on auto pilot at that point. She was more scared than she had ever been before in her life. She was handed a gun and told to run outside to the cars so that is what she did. She ran. Blind with panic she didn't even notice that walkers surrounded her until Andrea had started screaming at her. Gunshots were going off all around. It was too much, to unreal. She was shooting at anything she could. Walkers were dropping left and right. Holy shit, Carol was killing Walkers! Her adrenaline was so high it was like she didn't even posses her own body.

As she spun around she locked eyes with Andrea. Carol saw, but couldn't seem to process the fact that Andrea had a blood gushing from her neck and arms. Blood was everywhere whilst walkers were feasting on her friend. Carol's mind was pleading with her body to move. To just do something, anything! Andrea was screaming at her to run. Somehow carol was able to snap out of it enough to run. She still couldn't accept what was happening, but holy hell she could run.

"Rick!"

Carol spotted Rick and Carl then sprinted as quickly as she could towards them, feeling a huge sense of relief the closer she got. She felt like now that she had found Rick, things would be okay. He would save her. Rick was their leader. He would take care of her. "Oh god, you're alive!" Carol said. "What about the others? Where is Daryl?".

Carl was the one who replied. "We don't know where Daryl and Glenn went, but Randall is dead. And so is Shane." Carol did a double take on Carl. Did he just say Shane was Dead? What in the world had happened? Rick grabbed Carol by the shoulders, forcefully shaking them. "Where's Lori." he yelled. "Carol, did you see Lori?!" Of course he would be looking for Lori. Carol Just couldn't seem to think straight, let alone respond. "DAD!" She heard Carl scream. Carol all of a sudden felt her body thrust through the air, landing in front of Carl. Right into a walker. This couldn't be happening. She struggled against the walker as they tumbled to the ground. pushing and shoving against the rotting body that was on top of her, she somehow managed to shimmy up enough to get her leg bent up into her chest. She kicked it down as hard as she could, smashing her foot right into the walkers head. Standing had seemed impossible but she made it to her feet and continued to stomp on the walkers putrid face. She couldn't stop stomping and kicking until the things whole head popped like a watermelon, spraying blood and chunks everywhere.

This was a dream. No, not a dream, a nightmare. There was no way this was really happening. As she looked around, she saw car tail lights headed away from her, she saw burning barns, she saw walkers. She was left behind, alone. All she could do was keep running.