Disclaimer: See Ch.1. Trigger Warning: There will be self harm in this story on several different occasions and mentions of rape/molestation.I know that's some dark stuff, but hey, this is the walking dead after all.

Chapter 2

"Knock knock." Amanda woke with a jerk when the unknown voice filled her cell and looked down at the drool smeared drawing pad under her face. "You slept all day and night." She wiped the spit off of her face as she looked at the guy standing in her doorway. "I'm Glenn." He took a step in and held out his hand, but he dropped it when she didn't take it. "We're about to clear the yard, get all the walkers out so we can fix that broken gate." Amanda just looked around waiting for him to make his point. "We could use your help if you're feeling up to it." She got up from the bed eager to go outside and get some air. "You have experience with this kind of thing?" she just rolled her eyes and gave him an "are you serious" look. He held his hands up in surrender and walked out of the cell.

When she got outside she realized that not many other people from Woodbury were helping. Just Tyreese and Sasha along with two men she had seen around town. Had she and the two men been the only ones they had asked to help? Or was it that the others from Woodburry too busy with their families? Oh well, if they asked her to help then she was willing to try. She stood with Tyreese and Sasha as Glenn explained what they were supposed to do. When they were given an array of weapons to choose from she picked a black, slightly curved machete. "Ya know how to use that thing?" Daryl asked as he walked up to her and Amanda hummed out a yes. "Alright, just don't cut yourself." His voice was dripping with sarcasm as he walked away, but little did he know that Amanda had a lot of experience with this particular type weapon. Guns were not her forte, but a machete or a hatchet? These were the weapons she had used for most of the past year. She had even gotten pretty good at throwing them. It helped that she had a lot of time to practice while at Woodbury.

She just rolled her eyes at Daryl before the gate that lead out to the field was opened and they all ran out and started taking down walkers. Amanda took her time and didn't run after the undead things. She found it to be a waste of energy to run up to something that would eventually come to her. She walked up to countless geeks and slammed the machete into their heads then kicked them off of the blade. When the field was cleared they all went outside the main fence and stood around the opening to keep out any biters that moseyed by while Daryl, Rick and Glenn worked on fixing the gate.

They managed to get it rigged temporarily so that nothing could get into the yard before they started piling up the bodies that littered the land. Carol grabbed the legs of a walker just as Amanda picked up the shoulders. "So, did you have a job before the turn?" Amanda shook her head no. "Oh, then did you go to school?" Carol asked again trying to make conversation and the more she tried the more Amanda started to see the older woman as a challenge. She had found a new competitor in the game she liked to play. Not talking to people probably made them think she was weird and probably a mute, but she didn't care. People had always looked at her like she was a freak even before the dead started to walk. When someone tried to talk to her she would shut down and pretend like she couldn't hear them or she would just nod or shake her head. She hardly even let her own parents in, not that they ever tried that often.

She hadn't always been so closed off. She was sure that she was a happy little girl at some point, but she could hardly remember that little girl anymore. She couldn't remember what it was like to be carefree, light and innocent. She hadn't been that way since before her ninth birthday. Her parents saw the change and tried for a short time to figure out what had happened, but she was little, confused, scared and therefore tight lipped.

Amanda was pulled out of her thoughts when Carol smiled and said something to Merle's brother. The man scoffed at her playfully before she laughed and kept on walking to where Amanda was dragging a walker. "So did you have a job in Woodbury?" Carol asked another question that went unanswered. "From what I've heard almost everyone had some kind of job." Still nothing. Amanda was quickly getting bored of playing the silent game. So when they dropped the body into the pile Amanda walked in the opposite direction that Carol took and started working on her own.

She was fine working by herself, but her solitude didn't last longer than hauling a few bodies by herself, because Daryl walked over bent down and scooped up the legs of the biter she was dragging. "Easier with two people." He said in explanation when she gave him an exasperated look. They had hauled several more walkers to the pile in silence before he spoke again. "Carol getting on yer nerves?" he asked and Amanda shrugged. "She's just tryin' to help. She's worried 'bout cha." Amanda considered playing the silent game with him, but considering that she had spoken to him before, she thought it futile.

"Why? It's not like she knows me. I'm not her daughter or anything else for that matter. So why should she waste her time on me?" Amanda asked not really expecting an answer considering she never got any from Merle.

"Because around here, we care about each other, we're family" He said as they stood off to the side of the pile of bodies taking a short breather. She put her hand on her hips and just stared at him where he stood with his arms crossed over his chest and his fingers hooked into the armholes of his sleeveless shirt.

"Nothing against her, but maybe I don't want another family." Amanda asked with a tinge of attitude in her almost monotone voice as she looked across the field at Carol. "My family is gone, they cared about me and now they're dead." Amanda wiped the sweat off of her head as she looked back at Daryl meeting his gray blue eyes. Just looking at them made a lump form in her throat. They were so much like Merle's in color and complexity. He cleared his throat making her realize she was staring. "Um, sorry, you just… never mind." She wanted to tell him what she was thinking, that she found herself lost in his eyes just like she had gotten lost in Merle's so many awkward times before. But if she told him this it would make him think that she and Merle were something more than just friends.

Just as Daryl lifted his arm to wipe sweat off his brow a gust of wind blew his scent up her nose. As soon as the stench of sweat and motor oil hit her nose a sudden bout of nausea rolled over her and she placed her hand over her mouth. "I gotta-" she didn't get to finish her sentence before she turned and upchucked into the pile of walkers.

Carol saw and walked over and stood by Daryl to see if she was okay. Amanda saw them, Glenn, Rick and the others from Woodbury looking at her when she turned around. "Are you okay?" Carol asked, her face filled with a concern that could only come from a mother. It pulled at something in Amanda and she nodded. "Do you need to talk to our doctor?" this question made Amanda perk up and she look between the man and woman standing in front of her.

"You have a doctor?" It wasn't hard to miss the hopeful sound in Amanda naturally sad voice. "Like, a real doctor?" Daryl and Carol exchanged a look.

Carol nodded at her. "He's actually a veterinarian, but I'm sure he could hel-"

"It's fine. I don't need a doctor." Amanda interrupted Carol as she looked down at the ground and tucked a stray strand of black hair behind her ear. She decided that she didn't want to be out there around people anymore. Being around Daryl was making her think about Merle too much and Carol's kindness and constant questioning was making her uncomfortable. So she left them standing there scratching their heads as she headed toward the building.

Carol looked over at where Daryl was staring after her and smirked. "Did that seem weird to you?" she asked and he shrugged.

"Everyone has their reasons for bein' a little weird now days." He said simply before they picked up one of the last bodies and started carrying it to the pile. "She still givin' ya the silent treatment?" he asked and Carol nodded her head. "Probably shouldn't take it personally." He said as he shook out what was left in a gas can onto the dead. "And I'd back off a little."

Carol turned to him with questioning eyes. "Why? You know something I don't?" Daryl just looked down at the ground and shrugged. She could tell by the almost unnoticeable tinge of pink in his cheeks that something was up. "You got her to have a conversation with you didn't you?"

"Ya say that like I actually tried." He said before he stuffed his shop rag into his back pocket and started walking to where Rick and the others had gathered near the building. "I don't know why she talks to me."

Carol rolled her eyes and looked at him across her shoulder. "Really? You can't think of even one reason why she would talk to you?" she asked almost sarcastically and Daryl just shrugged as he shook his head. "For an observant guy you sure do miss a lot." About that time Glenn called out to Daryl pulling them from their conversation.

He made me feel so safe, so loved. I didn't think he would hurt me. He said he wouldn't hurt me. The way he brushed my hair over my ear, how he kissed my neck, it made me feel mature. At the time that was all I wanted. Now all I want to know is why he did it. Why he tricked me. Why did he work so hard to get me to sleep with him if he was just going to throw me away afterwards? I still feel him touching me. Every hour of every day I feel him there. He's gone now, but he's still here. Still making me feel like a used piece of trash. He got to me…

I feel dirty, inside and out. I can't wash away the things that I let him do to me. I can't forget the memories that keep replaying in my head. The more they replay the more they build up. Everything builds up inside me and I feel like I'm going to explode. That's why I do it. I try not to… I try writing in this book, but writing everything down only helps so much. It only delays the inevitable. I can't help it. I can't stop. I don't want to do it, but it's the only way I know how to relieve the pressure.

Amanda growled as chunked the thick duct tape covered journal into the corner and moved from the little table to plop down on the bunk. She wiped angrily at the tears that were streaming down her pail face. She just stared at the book. The journal that her mother had given her when she was eight. She liked writing in it, but she hated the book. Her mind was one container of old memories, but the book was another. It not only held old memories, but old thoughts. Thoughts that she didn't want to think anymore.

When her eyes were dry she let them land on her bag where it sat on the floor. She couldn't stop herself from reaching out and picking it up. Her hand shook as she swiped a strand of hair that had slipped out of her braid back behind her ear. She reached out to unzip the inner zipper pocket to take out what at first glance appeared to be a sewing kit. But to Amanda it was so much more than that. After a few seconds of letting her shaking hand hang between herself and the kit she curled her fingers around it, slipped it out of its hiding place and unzipped it.

Inside laid a needle, thread, an exacto knife, replacement blades, seam ripper, measuring tape, and a thimble. Your normal sewing tools, the perfect disguise for her drug. Her hand still shook as she lifted her shirt and picked up the one tool that didn't quite fit with the rest, the exacto knife. She leaned her head back and looked at the ceiling then closed her eyes as she pressed the cold blade to her abdomen, right below the band of her bra. As she dragged the pointed blade across her pale skin the tiniest of whimpers escaped her and a thin line of red seeped through the fresh two inch cut. She sighed in relief as she dropped the blade onto the bed next to her and looked down at the wound. It was a feel good hurt, like when a sore muscle gets massaged, and she was addicted to it.

When the good feeling faded guilt set in. She hated herself for doing it. She always told herself afterwards that she wouldn't do it again, but she always knew it was a lie. She would do it again, she always did. She laid on her side before she curled up into a ball and went to sleep.

Daryl noticed that the girl with the side braid didn't come to super, but he tried not to show it. He knew what Carol was talking about when she asked him if he seriously couldn't think of a reason the girl would want to talk to him. He could think of a lot of reasons, but he didn't believe any of them, especially the one that Carol was insinuating. No woman would be interested in him. Why would they be? He didn't consider himself handsome, like Rick or Glenn, he didn't smell good and he definitely wasn't out going or charismatic. Hell half the time he smelled like sweat and smoke. So he couldn't understand why he was the only person that Amanda would talk to.

He wasn't surprised when Carol sat down across from him at the table. She was one of the hand-full of people that he called friends. They talked about various new people, including Ms. McLeod who's arthritic hands hand been bothering her all day, and how they were all settling into their weird, but safe accommodations. Their conversation had died down and Daryl was looking around the room when he noticed wisp of dark hair and a loaded green backpack slip out of the door that led to yard. "What are you looking at like that?" Carol asked attempting to follow his gaze, but came up with nothing. Daryl didn't answer the woman as he stood, placed his bowl into the container to be washed then headed outside interested to see where whoever it was thought they were going.