Just a short prologue to bring you slightly up speed with my character Violet. This will be a slowish character development with Violet starting as a bit of a wet blanket, but hopefully turning into a badass. She may be annoying at times, hey I was even annoyed writing some bits haha, but she grows into her skin! Ive wanted to write a Daryl story for a while now and I've planned a lot out! I will be sticking to character as much as possible with a few of my own added in! This may be a slow burner as Daryl and Violet are both character that don't trust easily. Enough rambling from me! Enjoy!!

~mollielouu

Violet's POV

Running, that's all I remember...I couldn't remember a time when I wasn't running. Constantly moving, shifting and changing, running water sometimes frantic, sometimes calm, but never standing still. This is what my life had become. From a childhood full of rage and violence, to an adolescence filled with friends and living, and back again. The rage is back, the rapid pace and the ever changing road. My life had, for a second time, been turned on its head and I was face to face with death.

I shut my eyes not wanting to look where I was or what was around, the dead, the living, I no longer cared. My long matted blonde hair covered my face as I sat slumped on the floor, my right foot trapped in a sharp bear trap. They metal teeth digging into my ankle making it impossible for me to move. Although I knew I was tied to the floor with this thing digging through my skin, I couldn't feel a thing. I had been running for what must have been hours, from a place I once thought was safe, that was once my home. I'd been with a group since this all started but when supplies started to run low, friends turned on friends, people died. I died there. Trapped for 5 months in a room no bigger than my garden shed back home...

Home...

I sunk back against the floor and pictured home...the rolling green hills, drinking cheap vodka with my friends at the park, smoking to impress stupid David Cunningham from year 11. I leaned to my left and gripped the strap of my back packing pulling it towards me. Before I left I hadn't grabbed much, just photos, water and my MP3 player I'd taken from a house. I grabbed the small plastic bag from the bottom and carefully looked at the photos, taking care not to smudge my bloody hands over the faces.

The first one, a photo of me and my adopted parents at Christmas, smiling with crooked paper party hats balanced precariously on our heads. The next, a photo of my high school friends, Ciaran, Douglas and Gerorgie, all smiling, drunk with red cups full of spirits in our hands. I closed my eyes and could almost hear 'I dont feel like dancing' playing in the background. I could taste the cherry sours on my tongue and the feel of Ciaran's shoulder up against mine as I lay my heavy head on his shoulder. Ciaran was my best friend and had been since I moved schools age 12. He had helped me become the person I was, he was my rock. We had come to America together. Douglas and Georgie had tagged along for the trip, to 'help' with my studies. After I was finished we were going to stay for a while, try something new and have an adventure. I had lost them all, didn't know if they were dead or alive. I had run without them, I had too. Ciaran had been taken away, Doug and Georgie...I hadn't seen them in a long time now...

I was far away from home now.. . Far away from the small English town, away from that picture of the party...I was going to finishing off my masters degree with a dissertation on the American civil war. I laughed then, how trivial that all was now. All those long nights staying up writing pointless essays for a future I now didn't have. I had become a shadow of the girl I was. Happy, outgoing, fun. Words that no longer applied to me. I don't even think I had uttered a word since I'd been trapped with those people. I cowered in the company of anyone. Never fought back, I'd never even killed one of those... things, I never had to that wasn't my job and now I was out on my own, no weapons, no fighting skills, no hope.

I was the walking dead.

That's when I heard it...a twig snap. They had found me, Zack had found me and he was going to take me back to that place, put his dirty hands all over me. I shoved the photos back in my bag and yank at the trapped. Prising it open was no good, I dug at the earth to try and pull it up from the ground. My finger nails filled with dirty as I frantically scrambling in the mud.

"Ah! Shit" I said as my hand hit something sharp cutting across my palm. I pulled at the chain and it pulled free from the ground. I leaned against a tree pushing myself up but as soon as I tired to stand I fell back down. I started to cry, I felt tears start to well up. No. I cant give in. I tried to stand once more time and position my foot so I could walk without tripping on the trap. I dragged my leg and began to move. The numbness I had felt before was gone, my leg felt as if it was on fire. I bit down on my lip hard to stop myself from screaming. And i fell. Slipped to my knees and stopped as the footsteps behind me got closer.

"Just kill me." I said my voiced scratched. "Just kill me Zack" I sunk further into the floor and put my head in my hands. My leg burned my head pounded and everything went black.

I hope you liked the first chapter/prologue! More of Violet's story and her background will be revealed as the story continues! Leave some comments n favs it will make me hapyyyy