OK! Out Of Our Hands, will start on 2x07 and will go from there. It is a slow love story, because I figure it'd be less cheesy. So, Helena Grace is a free-spirited, stubborn and caring girl who was separated from her family and wants to find them but with this group who can not only provide her care, but help her on the way. So, Helena has survived 2 1/2 months (obviously had food, water, some sort of shelter but had no one to help her)I hope you enjoy this story as much as I enjoy writing it.

Sorry for mistakes.

I DO NOT OWN THE WALKING DEAD

Prologue

In the distance I could see the light from the outskirts on the forest, and it gave me a little hope when I'd get lost in the woods. All I could think about was the tangy smell of my blood that oozed from the gash above my left eyebrow. I was covered in dirt, grass stains, and other blood stains that I had recently. All I had was a hunting knife that I got from my neighbour, the lighter in my pocket and a granola bar that I found while raiding the mall. Which is where I got this fresh wound that is killing me. One of those geeks charged itself at me, and almost knocked me straight on my ass but luckly I had the knife on me or I wouldn't be here today.

I was pretty beaten up as well. People would think I'm one of those things, but let's hope for my sake that they don't - gun shots, one after the other. I flinched as each shot rang through the forest and into my ears. What was happening? I noticed my feet were moving faster to the loud pops that came from the opening of the forest.

How did I get here? Like this. How did this happen? What can I do to stop it? Nothing, all I can do is wait for help. I remember when everything began to fall apart, two and half months ago when the outbreak started and it destroyed everything - my family and I are seperated. I haven't seen them since then. Hopefully, we will see each soon enough but until then I have to keep myself alive. A frown formed on my lips as the gun shots stopped. I knew it wasn't my family. We didn't have guns, only my uncle had a rifle that had only a little ammo. They weren't stupid to waste their bullets.

My hand reached the silver neckless around my neck. I couldn't help but to smile as the memories of the time the world was normal. There was no cannablistic creatures, who fed or spread the disease. I felt tears threatening their way out, but I couldn't because I told myself that I would be strong. I will be strong. For my family. Also, for myself as well. I used my sweater sleeve to wipe the sweat from my forehead and it was mixed with the blood from my wound. Soon enough, I'll get this clean and find my family.

A soft pop echoed the forest. Soft, muffled cries that were most likely to be a women's. I couldn't make out what was said. A small smile curved on my lips as I made it to the opening of the forest. I winced as the sunlight burn my eyes as I walked into the fields. A two floor house, with fields surrounding it and a barn not to far away from it. It was a beautiful sight. I licked my lips as I covered my eyes with my hand and tried to call for help. My body was weakening. I staggered across the field. By waving my arm around, and calling for help so they don't gun me down.

I could hear heavy seats of footsteps, muffled voices and they got closer to me. My voice was raspy, with a thick southern accent. I looked up to the people who now surrounding me but it's all a blur. My hand covered the sun from burning my eyes but the sun bounced off the ground and blinded me. "H-help" I said, before falling to the ground from dehydration, hunger, and fatigue. Forgive me, Mother.

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