A/N: Hey, so this is my 1st walking dead fanfic, so forgive me 4 any oocness, etc, etc, stuff like that xD

Critiques r greatly appreciated

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN THE WALKING DEAD

Enjoy~

Eden: Season one

Ch. 1: Walkers, Orphans, and a world gone to hell

.

.

.

Orphan. I never really minded being called that. I like the title. Free. Not like the days where my dad used to slam me into the walls of the house. Not like the days where my mom always vented her anger on me with a wine bottle. Not like the days where they wished I didn't exist. Not like the days where they thought everything would've been so much better if I was a boy.

Oh well, they're gone now.

I sit up from my makeshift bed of blankets, brushing my fingers through my knotted, long, brown hair. Mom used to do my hair all the time, until I was five. When everything was still normal. When my parents didn't hit me. When I didn't have those scars.

I walked through the RV with my backpack, moving to the bathroom to change into a pair of jeans and a loose, grey shirt that Lori gave me, stuffing the clothes I had just worn into my backpack. I slide my knife into my brown boot. It was a present that my aunt gave me before we got separated when the apocalypse came. She was the only one who was nice to me, but she was bit and dead. But not walking around eating people.

Because I put her down.

May she rest in peace.

I walk out of the RV, and I feel the sun touch my skin. It's a good day, kind of humid. The smell of grass, the rustling of the trees, the singing of birds.

The only thing that lingers in my mind is the fact that Daryl's coming back today.

And he's going to be pissed when he finds out about Merle.

I instinctually pick at my fingernails, scraping at the dirt underneath.

I don't really spend time with the kids in this camp. Either they're too busy to notice me or they're just ignoring me, I honestly don't care. I like spending time alone. I did that a lot when I was little.

Dale eyes me from the rooftop with his binoculars, and gives me a wave. I wave back from the log I'm sitting on, balancing the book on my lap, 'Pride and Prejudice.' One of the books that I quickly picked off of my shelf when this world went to hell.

Bad choice.

I like Dale. He was one of the adults that understood me. Dale listens, and he listened more than my parents ever would. He understands why I don't play with the other kids. He knows that I'm smart. That I won't do anything stupid. That I can survive.

Dale understands when others just look away.

A shadow blocks the sun from going into my eyes. Good shadow. I flip a page, until the shadow says hi. I almost flinch, almost, until I realize the shadow is Carl.

Nice, friendly Carl.

"Hi."

I close my book. "Hi."

I want my shade back.

Carl looks at my cover, his shadow covering me again. "Do you wanna play tag with us?"

I never really talked with Carl since I came to this camp, but everyone seems to like him, and Rick and Lori are nice parents.

I'm jealous of that.

I fidget in my seat. Maybe, just maybe, we can be friends.

Maybe.

"Us?" I raise my eyebrows.

"Sophia, Eliza, and Louis." He lists them automatically, naturally. My brain echoes an "oh" in my mind. I felt stupid all of a sudden.

I remember my mother's words. You can't play until you get a perfect score.

"Sure." I walked back into the RV to stuff my book into my backpack, and then I met up with Carl, who was being scolded by Lori. I wait until Lori shows a face of resignation, and says something about "staying where I can hear you." Carl bounds towards me with a big smile on his face.

Must be nice to have a mother like her.

"Ready?"

I shrug, quirking a part of my mouth into a weak smile. "Let's go."

It doesn't take me too long to remember their names. Carl, Sophia, Eliza, and Louis. They were all my age, except Sophia.

I let a small smile tug at my lips as we partnered up and ran. It was nice to act like a kid again.

I was always good at tag. To be specific, I was always good at hiding, blending in with the environment, controlling my breathing, making sure my presence was erased. It was a honed skill since I was six. It was what I did when my parents were home.

I was hiding under a bush with Sophia, the girl that always held a doll, clutching it like it was a lifeline.

Childish.

I didn't say anything about it though. I used to have a bunch of dolls until mom came home one day and threw them away.

Sophia was nice to me, and on my first day, she offered me a can of beans. Although I don't think she remembers that. I hear a yelp from her, I accidentally elbowed her arm. I give her an apologetic look and she gives me a small smile.

Sweet Sophia. Nice Sophia. Kind Sophia. Girly Sophia.

My lips curl into a frown. Because I know she won't last in this world.

I focus my attention to the front.

"Is she gone?" She asks.

Shrugging my shoulders, I lift several leaves with my hands, scanning the area to see if she was still there. "Yeah."

We crawl out of the bushes slowly, and quickly scurry to a different hiding spot. I watched out for Eliza's footprints. Her tracks. My aunt taught me how to track when I visited her house. Her family, as I remember, came from a long line of trackers and hunters.

Too bad she's dead now.

Sophia and I quietly run to a different bush. I check to see if it has thorns. None. Perfectly safe, perfect camouflage for us.

Except for the fact that there was a walker here.

I didn't expect Sophia to scream that loudly. Carl, Louis, and Eliza run in our direction. Sophia was running towards her mom by the time they arrived. She could've been quieter. If it had noticed us it would've torn us into pieces by now.

I heard Carl calling his mom, and tuned him out.

Because I didn't have anyone to call to.

My eyes were transfixed on the walker before me. I shudder as the crunching sounds grew louder.

I didn't leave. I was frozen on the spot, I was scared. Terrified. Walkers scare me. My parents scared me. The dead scare me. I imagine it turning around and sinking its teeth into my neck.

Beads of sweat start forming in my balled fists. My legs shake, my breathing turning irregular, and then I remember my aunt's words to me on our very last hunting trip.

"The best way to kill one of these animals is to sneak up on them when they don't expect it. Make sure to be quiet. Then you swing your knife and get it right when it least suspects."

Time seemed to move slower for me. The knife in my boot seemed to be really urging me to pull it out, to let me wield it. So I do. I wrap my fingers around the handle and feel a rush something pool into my stomach. I slowly creep up behind the walker, cutting off my breathing entirely, masking my presence. Just one more step. Just one more step.

My knife is raised high into the air, prepared to strike. My shaking legs regress to a tremble.

Good knife.

Just as I bring it down to the unsuspecting walker, I hear Carl's voice just ahead of me, loud and clear.

"Eden!"

My concentration is gone and my eyes dart back to the still distracted walker. The fear is back, my breaths turn shallow, and my feet are frozen.

I'm scared.

The next thing I see is Rick, Shane, Dale, and Jim run by me with weapons in hand. Lori snatches my arm and pulls me away, asking if I was ok.

I nod.

I sneak a look at the severed walker's head, and then Lori pulls me and Carl away from it. I see Sophia being coddled by her mother, and Eliza and Louis with theirs', probably asking if they were okay.

It reminded me of my aunt. I remember the time when I fell out of a tree. I broke a leg, and I remember my lip was split open. Dad wasn't home that day, and mom just watched me fall, laughing as she chugged a can of beer, all while wearing those fancy clothes of hers'.

The only one that helped me was my aunt, who thank god, was staying over our house.

"Are you ok?"

"How are you feeling?"

"Do you want some water?"

"The doctors said you'll be fine."

She was the only one who asked if I was alright before the apocalypse came.

I picked the dirt from under my fingernails. I shouldn't be thinking about her now. She's gone, the world went to hell.

Dead.

I hear a rustle from the bushes, which jostles me out of my thoughts. I lift my head up to look at it. The thing that prevents me from digging deeper is a man. A man carrying a bunch of squirrels. Nice. I see him walking out of the woods, holding a crossbow. And my breathing turns shallow again.

Daryl is back.

And he is going to be pissed once he finds out about Merle.

A/N: So, how was it? Good? Bad? It's my 1st twd fanfic so im curious xD

Til next time~