A/N: My first Walking Dead story. So I'm trying the best I can, here. Yes, I saw tonight's episode. Yes I cried. But during this season, which hasn't been that long, I know, I got this idea. There is also another TWD fic that I might work on as well. I might alternate these two. Like post a chapter of this one, and then a chapter of the other. I'm not quite sure yet.

Chapter One

You'd think growing up Korean, or even Asian, that life would be different. That the international stereotype is "Make all A's or you're grounded!" "Be a doctor!"

Bitch please.

Life was not like that at my home. My parents, though they did want us to make good grades, never really pressured us. If our grade got down to a C, we got a lecture. If it got down to an F, we were grounded. That really was about it.

My brother, Glenn, was one of the people to sometimes test that theory. It wasn't until later that we figured out that math really just wasn't his strong subject. Though I was two years younger, he would come to me for help in his algebra class. It helped that I was in the same class (as I skipped a couple grades as a child). I helped him the best I could, though it was up to him to make the grade.

He graduated high school with a low B in algebra (only because I was able to slip him the answers to the final test which changed his grade from 65 to an 80).

Me, I graduated all honors. And that was what gave off the 'Stereotypical Asian Upbringing' response. I was given a full ride to college.

If you're wondering, no. I declined the offer. I didn't want to do anymore schooling. That wasn't really me. I was smart, sure, but I hated school. I dreaded each day I had to go. I felt like college would be the same as high school. Same stupid teachers. Same stupid fuckers in the hallway. Same pricks who liked to corner me in the girls' locker room when it was empty.

But let's not talk about that.

My passion, as I was trying to get to earlier but got off track, is singing. I've been singing since I was three. There was a home video of it somewhere, and Glenn and my other sisters cameoed in it at some point, but I didn't know where it was. Probably in the basement.

Not that I planned on going in there anytime soon.

Connie, my eldest sister, barricaded the door, her eyes wide. She panted quietly, her hands in her thick black hair. I took a step towards the door, and froze in my tracks. The groans got louder and I looked at Connie, who kept wringing her hair.

"That door won't hold them for long." I whispered.

"You don't think I fucking know that?" She snapped and made her way into the kitchen.

"I told you not to leave the basement window open." I snapped back at her.

"Well too late for that, isn't it?" My sister came back, a butcher knife in her hand. I stared at her.

"What're you going to do with that? Chop them to death?" I crossed my arms.

"Bethany, shut up and board the windows." Connie kept her eye on the door, which shook with the pounding of the undead.

Because, really, what else can you call them? I mean, honestly.

I grabbed the chopped up paneling from the wall and put it over the windows, putting nails in my mouth as I did so. They tasted like a quarter, and it wasn't very appetizing. If you didn't put a coin in your mouth, I guess you wouldn't get the reference.

They had a strong metallic taste. Though they weren't completely in my mouth, my tongue lightly brushed them from time to time, and I grimaced when it happened.

I was halfway through with the first board when Connie screamed and the door to the basement began to crack. I turned and looked. Splinters were on the ground, and a sickly pale arm was reaching for my sister. She gripped the knife with both hands and slammed it down on the arm, making it fall to the floor. She stepped back, blood on her pale blue blouse and all over the blade.

"It's not safe in here." I took the nails out of my mouth. "It really isn't. We can't stay."

"But what about Mom and Dad? Jasmine? Heather? Glenn? What if they come home and we're not here?" Connie asked, her eyes wide.

"What if they come home and we're one of those monsters? We can't stay, Connie. Besides, Glenn's in Georgia. I highly doubt he'll be home soon with this bullshit going on."

Connie seemed to glare at me as the door began to break more. After looking at it for a moment, she looked back at me.

"Fine." She said, her teeth gritting. "But if we get killed out there, it's your fault."

I nodded once, putting the hammer in a belt loop on my jeans. Connie gripped the knife as I grabbed a family portrait off the wall and Dad's truck keys off the mantle.

"Let's go." I told her and went to open the door.

But froze in my tracks when I saw a herd of those monsters out on the street. Quickly I shut the door and looked at my sister.

"Not that way." I shook my head.

"Let's try the back." Connie bit her lip, heading for the back door. I followed, running as fast as I could. We hurried out into the backyard and over to the gate, which was closer to the driveway and easier access to the truck. I put my hand on the lock to the gate and looked at my sister, who looked scared shitless.

"Ready?" I asked her.

"Mhmm." Connie nodded quickly.

"Alright." I took in a deep breath. "One, two, three."

And with that, I swung the gate open.