Thank you so much for all the reviews! I'm glad you guys like Lily! My plan is to mainly to follow the storyline of the TV show but possibly change a few things that will happen later on. Well, here is the third chapter and I hope you all enjoy.

Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead.

Diary of the Dead Days

Part 1: Atlanta

Chapter Three
Lessons and Weakness

The chap-stick that Amy gave me didn't help much but was able to relieve some of the pain that was starting to form around my lips. I tried to wake up earlier the next day by going to bed early but still managed to sleep in, completely forgetting about my plans for tomorrow. The knocking sound of someone's knuckles against the passenger side window abruptly ended my dreamless sleep. I physically jerked and looked around wildly, not exactly sure what was causing the noise. I looked through my window to see Daryl, and he didn't have a pleasant expression on his face.

I pulled my hair back and exited my van, none of the other campers had noticed him banging on my window. I was wondering why he looked so pissed off, but I suddenly remembered why I was trying to wake up earlier. He was planning on teaching how to shoot a bow.

"What the hell?" He growled, but his voice wasn't loud enough for everyone else to hear. Though I saw Dale peeking at us from up top of the RV, but he didn't say anything and continued on watch. "I've been waitin' on you for thirty minutes. I thought you wanted to learn how to shoot."

"I'm sorry, I do want to learn." I always hated being scolded, every time someone would yell at me, I wanted to curl up in ball and beat myself up over how stupid I was for days, "It won't happen again."

He rolled his eyes at me, probably reconsidering agreeing to teach me. It was becoming more easier to speak with the people in camp even though I'd only been here for two days. I didn't usually talk much to other kids at school because I wasn't really forced to, but in the camp, I had to learn quickly how to properly communicate so I didn't look entirely weak. It was kind of pathetic having a ten year old girl speak up for her twenty-two year old sister. I didn't much enjoy talking to Daryl, but I rather speak with him than to even look at Merle.

"Fine, get your bow an' hurry up. Since you slept in we don't have much time." Daryl snapped after his brief silence and roughly pointing towards my trunk. I popped the hatch and grabbed my bow and arrows. I whistled for Ripley and he came running towards me, "Why does your dog have to come?"

"He fetches the arrows." It wasn't a complete lie but that wasn't the only reason I wanted him with me. If those brothers were anything alike, I didn't trust either of them, and Amy's warning kept echoing through my head. Being alone with Daryl just seemed like too much of a risk.

We wandered into the area were I unofficially dubbed as my training grounds. The walker head I drew yesterday was no longer pinned to the tree but was hanging on a limb by a thin rope. The breeze caused it the sway back and forth, which would make hitting the target even harder. I stood a few yards away and Ripley rested at my feet, waiting to be called to gather any stray arrows. Daryl didn't say anything to me but just watched. I breathed deeply and pulled back the drawstring, taking a moment to aim, and then release the arrow. It zoomed past the target, not even nicking it, and disappeared into the woods.

"Okay, first off, you're doing it all wrong." Daryl criticized bluntly. That comment was quite obvious and made my patience wear thin as I rolled my eyes. I didn't back talk like I was in my mind and, instead, waited for him to continue, "You only pull back the string with two fingers."

"That's impossible." I heard myself snapped irritably. I even knew that much about archery, my mom constantly pounded that in my head every time I at least tried shooting a bow. It was hard enough pulling back the string with my whole hand, let out only two fingers.

"It's because you ain't got no upper body strength." He told me, "You ain't ready to shoot yet, you need to practice pulling it back."

I sighed in aggravation but didn't say anything and did as he told me. Ripley had already vanished into the woods, sniffing out my lost arrow. I suddenly felt very conscious that I was alone for the time being. Daryl just stood there, his arms crossed and watching for any signs of pulling the drawstring back incorrectly. Every time I put another finger on the string, he'd scolded me.

"Is your brother really going to eat my dog." I suddenly asked, trying to fill the awkwardness until Ripley got back. I was probably the only one who felt weird because Daryl didn't even notice the dog was gone until I mentioned something.

"If there ain't no food, that dog is going start lookin' pretty good." He laughed, saying exactly what I was expecting.

I rolled my eyes, ignoring the rest of his comments about all the kinds of animals he has killed throughout his life. I wasn't too big on hunting. After getting tired of constantly pulling back the drawstring and releasing it without an arrow, I bent down and picked up the one Ripley returned not too long ago. It was hard not to hear the loud snickers coming from Daryl, but I pretended like it didn't faze me as I readied my bow. I use only my index and middle finger to pull it back and steadied my aim at the drawn walker's forehead. Then released my grip.

The outburst of laughter from Daryl made it quite obvious I missed the target and was no were near it. I gritted my teeth and gazed hatefully towards the sky, not being able to look at my tutor directly. I was so sure this time I would at least hit the paper, but no, it was another failure.

"You should be givin' that bow to someone else. You can't shoot worth a damn." His insults didn't anger me as much as they just plainly annoyed me. I dropped my bow on the ground, not caring about damaging it or not. I didn't throw it but it wasn't gentle, "What, you upset?"

It wasn't a concerned question, he was mocking me yet again. I was beginning to regret this whole situation, thinking that taking lessons from him was a good idea.

"I know I'm no good at this." I muttered and then sighing, "That's why I wanted you to teach me, not just make fun of me the whole time."

"Just keep practicin' pulling it back when you have time and we'll work on your aim tomorrow mornin'." Daryl said, no longer mocking me, but then he sent a glare my way, "Better damn be on time too."

"Yeah." I mutter giving a half smiled, but I knew he wasn't joking about my tardiness.

Glenn was easy to get along with, and he really seemed to like Ripley as much as the kids did. When I got done with helping Carol and Jacqui with washing the final load of clothes for the week, I saw Glenn playing fetch with Ripley and Rose. He would take turns throwing a stick for Ripley to catch and Ripley would deliver it to Rose for her to throw. I would have thought Ripley was getting tired of playing catch from having to constantly chase down my arrows, but he appeared to be having a good time.

My approach distracted Ripley as he bolted towards me, greeting me by plopping down in front of me and awaiting for me to rub his belly in which I complied. Rose squealed, excited that I was finally chore-less. I didn't meet Glenn when I first found the survivor camp, he returned later on that day from gathering supplies in Atlanta. His stories made me overwhelmingly grateful that I didn't even try to hit the big city. I've only been there once in my life and that was when my mother was giving birth to Rose in the hospital.

Rose told me about her day with glee in her voice, explaining how Shane took her, Carl, and Sophia to the quarry to try and catch frogs. I frowned at the thought of Rose not being watched by either Lori and Carol, but I smiled and nodded in attempt to be excited about her story. They didn't catch anything, no surprise there, but I gave her false hope about maybe catching some next time.

"I was going to try and read some to pass time, but Dale's RV is filled with crappy novels, so I ended playing with Ripley and Rose." Glenn chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck as he spoke with me. I laughed as well as I heard about Dale's collection from the other campers and I figured out the truth once I rummaged through them myself yesterday.

"I'll show you my collection." I looked both ways before speaking, making sure no one was in earshot, and whispered to Glenn. His expression was confused, but he smiled and followed me to my van.

My dad had a rather extensive gun collection, but I had a collection of my own. After popping the hatch and opening my trunk, I pulled out a box that was buried under a few supplies. The box was large and heavy, but I was able to lift it on my own. Glenn was unsure at first, but he bent down and slowly opened the cardboard lid, revealing nothing but books. It was hard to choose between my wide collection and I ended up leaving quite a few behind, but this box contained the best of the best, or so that was my opinion of my own collection.

"Wow." Glenn mumbled, going through the collection, "Why do you have some many books?"

"I like to read." I stated simply, grinning like an idiot to finally see someone astonished at my prized valuables. This box could have been filled with more important and vital supplies, but I didn't want to enter such a hellish world without something to enjoy, something to escape reality with, and I was glad I did.

"Heh, no kidding." Glenn laughed and finally found a small novel that caught his interest, "Can I borrow this?"

I examined the book, making sure it wasn't one of my all time favorites. It was a simple, beginner's sci-fi fictional novel. It wasn't the greatest book in my mind, but it still was a good read. I should have known Glenn would have picked something out like that. I nodded and searched for another book I remembered bringing along, it was similar to the book in Glenn's hand, but I thought it was better and more exciting.

"You can read this one too, but you have to bring them back. No matter what." I said, my voice turning more serious at the end. He caught my double meaning. I didn't just mean for him to return them, but for him to survive in order to return them in one piece. He nodded, giving me a half smile, and walked back with me to camp.

Glenn was insanely brave for making his solo trips to Atlanta and back, that was something I didn't have the courage to do. I haven't been faced with many walkers, I've only seen the handful at my parents farm and only killed one with my bat. An entire city of walkers, that was something I never wanted to see. There was also talk going around in camp about bringing a group to Atlanta to gather more supplies, I sincerely hope I wouldn't be volunteered to go.

After showing off my book collection, I wanted nothing more than to settle down with a book, but I didn't. Instead, I continuously practice with my bow. Simply pulling back the string and releasing it without an arrow. I stood behind my van, I didn't want to practice in the middle of camp because I thought of myself looking weird and everyone staring at me. Rose accompanied me, slipping away from studying with the other kids, and she was listening to some CDs while sitting in the passenger's seat with Ripley.

I realized I hadn't seen Merle or Daryl all day since morning, but I heard from Amy that the only reason they kept those brothers around was because of their hunting skills. Other than Glenn and the women I had laundry duty with, I didn't really associate with the other survivors. I only went to Shane if there was something important, Dale made me feel awkward, and Jim didn't really speak to me as well as the other campers. I didn't mind too much though, I was already growing attached to my small group of 'friends'.

The sun was beginning to set but there was still enough daylight to wander around camp without feeling scared. I ceased my training and packed away my bow, thinking now would be a good time to wash up. The heat had been extreme and my jacket was stowed away. Throughout the day I was constantly sweating from the heat, and I was probably starting to smell bad. I grabbed the necessary stuff, like the shampoos and body wash along with an extra pair of clothes, and ordered Rose to stay in camp with Carol or Lori. Once she left, I signaled for Ripley to follow as I started for the quarry.

There was a certain spot where most bathed and I usually felt safer with someone else around, but I didn't have to courage to ask someone like Amy or Andrea to join me. So, it was just Ripley and me. I had to be quick before all the sunlight vanished and I would have to stumbled through the woods in the dark to get back to camp. I let down my hair, it was starting to feel gross from the lack of washing but that feeling would be over soon. Just as I was about to lift my shirt up, Ripley jolted up from his spot on the ground with his ears pricked and his fangs barred. He growled viciously and I automatically thought it was a walker, but I called out to make sure.

"W-Whose there?" My voice quivered with panic and fear, feeling stupid for not bring a weapon with me. If it was a walker, my only hope of surviving was that it didn't know how to swim.

However, the figure emerging from the woods was a human that was alive, but after recognizing who it was, I much rather it had been a walker. Merle Dixon was standing before me and my stomach dropped. He was stumbling but was able to kept himself standing upright. The bottle in his hand and the reek of alcohol emitting from him made it obvious that he was drunk and that his intentions weren't good.

I stepped back as he inched forward, my bare feet touched the cool water as he was getting closer. I attempted to escape by slipping past him, but his hand grabbed my wrist and threw me against a rock. I heard Ripley growling and barking, but was silenced by Merle with a swift kick to the side.

"Ripley!" I called out his name but a hand covered my mouth and the stench of dirt and alcohol flooded my nostrils. I assumed the reasons I hadn't seen either of the Dixon brothers for most of the day was because they were helping out the camp by hunting, not getting drunk and waiting for the right moment to prey on someone while they were alone.

"Hey, about you an' me go off on our on, eh?" Merle's voice was slurred and his eyes were glazed with something I wasn't quite familiar with, "I'd take good care of ya and Rose. Whadda say?"

Lust filled his eyes and was intensified by the alcohol. I kept on wondering, why me? Amy was much prettier than I was, I had more pounds than her and wasn't as femininely dressed. Andrea was gorgeous as well, but it was me who ended up being preyed on? I couldn't understand why, but then it suddenly made sense. I was alone. Amy had her older sister protecting her along with Dale guarding them from the top of the RV, Lori was under the careful watch of Shane, and Carol had a not too friendly husband that would probably snapped if another man looked at her. All I had was a dog and a ten year old sister. I was an easy target.

"Stop." I whimpered, but it was just a muffled noise underneath his hand.

"Listen, since this whole world gon' to shit recently, I haven't been laid in awhile, think ya can help me out, girly." His breath burned the side of my cheek with his hand now brushing my hair softly and the other still holding on to my wrist tightly.

I could wiggle away, violently struggle and attempt to attack him even though I was defenseless. But my body wouldn't move, froze in place by fear of being beaten or killed by this man.

I closed my eyes and hoped for the best.

Leaving you all with a nice cliffhanger. Thank you for reading!