I remember the days when the zombie apocalypse was just a pipe dream. When we all watched movies like "Night of the Living Dead" and wonder what it would be like if the dead walked the Earth.

Those days are over.

I wrench my knife out from the skull of a walker. Its blood splatters against my face, and I throw it to the ground. I'm on a run, just a supply run, with my dad, Sasha, Tyreese, and Michonne. Once we've cleared the place of those monsters we begin to ransack the place. The place in question is a long deserted Walmart. The place reeks of rotten produce and is mostly empty. I load up my backpack with whatever I can I find. We regroup at the entrance about half an hour later with our haul and count out what we've got. I managed to collect the most, which is pretty sad, because I only got about three cans of various vegetables, a couple canisters of powdered milk, and cough drops. Winter's coming you know.

We all squeeze into the silver Dodge Ram and my dad drives us away. We cruise along the empty roads and I look straight ahead, I'm squeezed in between Tyreese and Sasha and I'm what you call claustrophobic.

A couple months ago, I'd have never gone on runs, I didn't have to. I lived in Woodbury, where the Governor protected us and we had walls and a town, and I almost convinced myself that things in this world could be good again. But then he killed my mother, it was only God's grace that my father happened to be ill the day the Governor stormed the prison. I lived a lie, and I'm not proud of it. People still look at me funny, wonder if I'm right in the head. Because I lived there, but now I'm going back to my new home, the prison.

I don't talk much, to anyone really, I'm what you call 'anti-social', that's another reason people question my mental state. It's not like I don't have options, I knew some of them from before, like Patrick, he's my age, 15. And then there's Lizzy and Mika, who are both younger, but friends of my father. I don't care for Lizzy much, because if you ask me, she's the crazy one. There's also the one's I fondly call the 'knee biters' and are too young for me to properly befriend.

There are also people roughly around the befriendable age that were attacked by the people I used to call mine. There's Beth and her boyfriend, she's nice, but I don't think I'd be able to stand her for too long. Zack, he's funny, but my father wouldn't let me hang around him, because I'm his little girl and he doesn't do much in the way of trust older boys. And then Carl, the one I admire from afar. I've watched him change, do what his father says, become the farmer boy I know he's not. I've never talked to Carl much, only once or twice. Because at some point, with so few people, words must be exchanged at some point.

By the time I stir from my thoughts, we're rolling up to the prison and Carl and Rick are opening up the gates. He's not wearing his hat, hadn't for a while now. That's how I identified him at first. The boy with the sheriff hat. Those days are gone too. But secretly, I kind of want them to come back.

Tyreese throws the door of the truck open and I slide out. Immediately, the deafening roar of walkers assaults my ears. But soon it becomes white noise and I can hear other things again. We walk into the prison and I find Carol, I hand her my haul, she'll find it most useful as the main cook around here. After that I head to my cell in D block. It's a lonely little thing, even the curtain that acts as a door is plain and gray. And it's not like I have to share with someone and our cell choices must compromise, this is my own will. Inside I have my backpack, my only connection to Woodbury and the likes behind even that, it's pushed under the bottom bunk. Unlike most people here, I prefer to sleep on the top bunk. An unzipped sleeping bag hangs slightly over the edge and I have a pillow that's tucked underneath it. Also under my bed is my collection of my most prized possessions. Books. Stored under there are a good 25 books that I've squirreled away, that I've found on runs, or I've taken from the library- pardon me borrowed. Other than that, my cell is empty. But that's ok, I like it that way.

I climb up to my bed and I curl up on my side, hidden from view, that I only pull out now is the latest book I've started- Catch 22. And I think I like it.

I read and read and read until it's time to eat again and then I tuck my book away again and climb down. I walk alone to the dining hall and sit down beside Patrick, because there's not enough room to sit alone. But I don't talk, I just watch. I always watch, waiting for the day.

AN: Please review! It helps me out a lot!