Thanks Nellie. I was hoping someone would say something about that.

Thanks for sticking with me this long everyone!

Lily is my OC. Everything else belongs to its respective owners.

Hershel came into the cell with Beth following close behind. He saw her telling Carl another lesson in life and decided to wait until they were done. Only when Carl nodded his understanding did the gentle old man enter the cell.

"I don't like gossiping, but I've heard you are rather…unusually battered," he approached softly. Beth was close behind him carrying a bag over her shoulder.

"Yeah." Lily nodded letting Carl go. "I am battered. Look at my face," she said flatly the anger growing in her chest. "Look at my hair. My leg. My stomach!" 'LIAR' made Hershel give a sad exhale of breath. His sigh seemed to convey all the sadness he had toward the remaining humans left in this world who lived outside the prison. Lily had to take a deep breath to calm herself down. It wasn't fair to them to take the brunt of her anger. "I appreciate your help, but—"

"What can I get to help?" Carl asked completely cutting her off. He was bound to help her whether she wanted it or not. Hershel turned his gaze from the boy back to Lily to let her continue.

"But Glenn needs more attention. Right now…I can't…I might make things worse…I'm sorry." Tears spilled from her eyes and down her cheeks. "I want to help but I've yelled at him and— and at you. I can't right now. I just—" She fell back onto the bed and sobbed into her hands. The tears ran down the side of her face and onto the sheets.

Hershel nodded taking the bag from his daughter and setting it down next to her. "For you. We have enough for Glenn. Just thought you would need these for yourself." Heaving a deep sigh, she wiped the tears from her eyes to sit back up. It was only at that moment that she realized that all the medical supplies had been removed from her cell.

"Thanks," she said leaning against the wall closing her eyes. Their receding footsteps filled her ears as she tried to recompose herself. The tears had stopped but the second she spoke anything the waterworks would start up again.

"What do you need?" Carl asked her sitting down on the bed next to her placing his hat on the sink. The kind old man turned and left hopping down the stairs to go take care of Glenn.

She shook her head no, but he dragged the bag over ignoring her. "You don't—" the knot in her throat almost choking her.

"Just point to what you need," he said pulling the bag into his lap. "And I'll get it for you."

She sighed before sitting up and pointing to the disinfectant and cotton balls. He pulled those out first drenching a cotton ball and handing it to her.

It stung her abdomen bringing more tears to her eyes but she knew it had to be done. The chances of it getting infected were slim because the knife wasn't rusty but it was just easier to clean everything before it got worse.

Pointing to a bandage and tape next, Carl ripped them down to size and applied them himself. She had to admit, he was getting better at taking care of injuries and still learning a lot.

Next, she pointed to her leg where she'd been shot. The jeans she'd found were too tight to roll up so she'd have to take them off. She placed a hand on Carl's shoulder to keep him on the bed while she pushed herself up. Grabbing a clean pair of pants, she walked to the neighboring cell and changed. Limping back in she sat on the floor and rolled her pant leg up showing him where she'd been shot.

The skin was still pink and irritated more likely going to get infected than her stomach. If looked at from the right angle, one could see through her leg but she wasn't going to tell Carl that.

The knot in her throat had shrunk allowing her to be able to speak.

"Carl," she said. "I was shot here." She said pointing to the irritated patch of skin on her calf. "This isn't going to be the last gunshot wound you see so here's how to take care of the person shot."

"How come you didn't tell me this at the farm?"

"I was unconscious. There are ABC's. Airway. Breathing. Circulation. Disability/Deformity. Exposure. This is if someone was shot next to you in the chest more so than the leg or arm and you can't get to me or Hershel. Check the airway to make sure that it isn't blocked. Make sure they are breathing. If not, tilt the head so they can breathe. Circulation. If there's no pulse start CPR. Disability. Make sure they can move their arms and legs. If they can't they were shot in the spine. Lastly, always look for an exit wound." It was at that point she showed him her entry wound and exit wound. "If there's no exit wound…then the bullet didn't exit and surgery will need to happen to remove it. Always apply pressure to stop the bleeding. That's crucial! I'll teach you the other stuff later. No one get's shot in the head much these days anymore and lives. That's a whole other ball park."

"You are better when you have something to do," he said looking down at her as she applied ointment to the wound and wrapped it.

"Keeps the mind busy." She pointed to the tape and when Carl handed it to her ran a line of tape along the top of the bandage to keep it from falling down.

"You good?" he asked her.

She turned to look at him and thought she should smile but couldn't. "Yeah, thanks."

He got up and left the cell but before he got too far she called to him. "Carl." He turned to meet her eyes. "Please hide the keys to everything."

"Why?"

"Because if you don't, I might leave to go find Daryl myself."

He nodded and made his way outside.

Lastly, she rose to her feet and placed her head in the sink turning the cold water on and letting it run down her scalp. Drawing her dripping head out, she gave her head a shake like she'd seen the boys at the pool do and water splashed against the walls. The person in the mirror above the sink was someone she did't know. Mostly the right side of the face purple with other bruises peppering the left side of her face from being thrown into a wall. Hair dark brown from the water cut choppily as if a weed whacker had done it. Red puffy eyes from crying and dark circles from lack of sleep and from worrying. Pronounced cheek bones due to weight loss from lack of food to eat.

'How am I the same person I was the last time I looked in the mirror?' she thought. She splashed more cold water on her face before looking into the mirror again. 'I'm not. Every time I look in the mirror I will be a different person. No one will ever be who they were ever again. This world had forced us to become monsters.'

Ok so I I have a new cover image I want to use but I can't upload it. Any ideas as t why it's not working?