Authors Note: Still, don't own anything from the Walking Dead, unfortunately! I do, however, own my OC's.

Warning: There is mention of abuse in this chapter, so be warned. It is rated M for a reason!

Also, to anyone who celebrates, hope you have a HAPPY TURKEY DAY! Due to the holidays, it may be a little longer before I can update after this, but I will try my hardest to at least put up another 2 chapters before the end of the year. Reviews help, so anything you want to comment on or ask about feel free!

-DragonLady

Updated 4-23-2016

"I know that it's killing me,

and it's poisoning the best of me,

What I see, I don't want to believe.

So let me tell you more, tell you more,

about the lies I lead."

Atreyu - Slow Burn

Chapter 3 - Stupid People are Dangerous

4 years ago

I look at my watch, dread washing over me as I notice the time, it's past midnight. Shit! I knew I shouldn't have stayed, but the temptation was just too great. The last football game of my senior year and the first time in a long time that I've actually felt like the 17 year old girl I'm supposed to be. Now it's back to reality, and boy will it suck. I try to think of a way to excuse my absence, knowing that nothing I come up with is believable I just pray that the late hour means he already drank himself to sleep and won't even notice how late it is. A breeze picks up and I wrap the jacket around me, the smell of cologne still evident. I touch my lips, the sensation still there from the kiss that was planted there by Brent Miller. I've had a crush on him since sophomore year and is the main reason why I'm out so late still. Once he started talking to me I was stuck, feeling like a lovesick freshmen. Is this what it feels like, to be normal? What I would give to have been able to feel like this throughout high school.

I pull my thoughts away from the evening when I see the near decrepit house coming into view. I walk slowly up the porch and open the door with careful ease, like if I open it too fast everything will just start crumbling down. I close the door and turn around, coming face to face with the person I was trying to avoid. I hear the deafening sound before I can feel it, the burning sensation on the side of my face is all too familiar. I place my cool hand against my cheek, getting temporary relief from the burning.

"The hell 'ave ya been?" The overpowering smell of alcohol and his slurring speech lead me to believe he's at least half a bottle and a six pack down. He looks at me insatiably, making my stomach churn. When he's like this, I know all he can see is my mother. I used to love the fact that I looked so much like her, but now it's only a curse. Maybe if I looked less like her he never would have bothered with me.

"School." I duck around him, knowing he can't move fast when he's that drunk and run up to my room. I close and lock my door and hope he'll just grab another bottle and leave me alone.

The pounding on the door crushes that thought, however. I won't do this anymore, two weeks until I'm 18 and 6 months until I start classes at college. No more letting him push me around or using me as a replacement for my dead mother only to blame me for her death at every other moment.

Quickly, I begin throwing the very few possessions I have into a duffle bag. I make sure I have the picture of my mother and I, the only thing I have left of her, then stand on my bed to get my stash of money and my ticket out of the air vent. It's not much, but it'll get me by and my plane ticket will take me to Atlanta right after graduation. After that, I'll figure it out. As I'm throwing my legs out of my window I see him knock my door down, the look on his face contorting into unbridled anger when he sees me leaving. Not tonight, never ever again will you lay a hand on me. I complete my escape and sprint towards the woods, it's been my safe haven throughout high school so its only fitting that it shelters me once more.

Running through the woods has always brought me a sense of relief. I run until I'm panting and my face is numb. I drop my pack next to a tree and lay against the bark. I just sit there catching my breath when the tears start falling. Like most days, I think back to when my mother was still alive. My step father had been kind and loving, but changed after her death. At first it was just yelling, but the more he drank the more agitated and temperamental he got. Even in the midst of summer I would wear long sleeves to hide the bruises. I stopped hanging out with my friends because I knew they would see right through me. I just always thought it would get better, that eventually he would wake up and realize what he'd done and we would go back to normal. Was I always this naive?

Present

I bolt up, gasping for breath and sweating from my panic induced walk down memory lane. It takes me a minute to remember where I am, only I'm not in the bathroom anymore. Actually, I'm on what appears to be a display case. The last thing I remember is that dead thing clambering to get a bite out of me, but I don't see any blood or bite or anything. What the hell happened, and why did I pass out?

"It almos' got ya." Daryl's voice startles me, not knowing he was sitting just behind me.

I sit up, swinging my legs over and standing up. My head is pounding and I barely manage to catch the bottle of water Daryl throws to me. "My head feels like I got punched." I notice my gun and bag on the counter where I was laying.

"P'rolly dehydrated." He walks over to me, at 5'4 I find myself looking up at him. "Ya shouldn't 'ave come. Coulda got us both killed." And with that, he picks up his crossbow and bag while walking swiftly towards the exit.

Tell me how you really feel. Feeling ashamed, I grab my stuff off the counter and run after him. I put my gun back in my jeans and quickly throw my quiver over my shoulder. I throw the water bottle in my bag after taking a large sip before tossing the bag full of knives over the shoulder opposite my bow. It feels like I'm in high school all over again, unable to defend myself and feeling too weak to try. At least I killed it, I mean, that's got to count for something right? It's not my fault that I was dehydrated, well, ya I guess it is.

I feel hot tears falling down my face, memories of my past haunting my thoughts. I quickly wipe them away before Daryl sees, the last thing I want him to see is me crying. He walks fast, but this time I don't try to keep up. I remember where the van is, so I let him walk ahead of me. My mind races so fast that it makes me dizzy, I had finally started to feel normal, happy even, and now it feels like I'm back where I started. How has my strength left me so suddenly, the fire that pushed me to be more than who I was?

I was told I was worthless so much that I started to believe it. The only thing that saved me was the bow tucked away in the garage that belonged to my mother. Before she died she had always tried to get me into the sport, but I was always too busy going to the mall or goofing off. After she died and I held onto her bow, I finally took it up so I could feel closer to her in some small way. I would spend hours in the woods, only giving up because my fingers were bleeding. When that bow broke I was devastated, I no longer had an escape to the hell that had become my life.

I shake my head, unwilling to let more tears fall, and try to dissipate the onslaught of memories. I feel a sharp pain in my hand and as I hold it up to view I see crescents in my palm producing a small stream of blood. I hadn't realized I was digging my nails into my hand, luckily my other hand was still holding onto my bow. I wipe the blood on my jeans as the van comes into view, Daryl leaning on the side. I keep my head down as I make my way to the back to throw my bag in. I just hope I didn't mess this whole day up, I still have a bag full of knives so that's still good, right?

After I put the bag down I look at the holster options for the machete I picked out for myself. There's one that would fit the blade to my back, but with my quiver that wouldn't work out too well. I pick out another one that will fit to my leg and begin strapping it against my upper thigh. Once I place the blade in, the tip falling below my knee, I walk a few steps to make sure I can still move comfortably. Satisfied, I zip the bag up and go to the side of the van to open the door leading to the back seats.

I sit on the floor and let my legs dangle out the open door, Daryl just a few steps to my right still up against the van. He remains silent and I follow his lead. Not like there's anything to talk about anyway.

As the sun starts to sink in the sky, I start to see figures in the distance. "I think that's Shane and the others." Daryl looks up from his crossbow, which he's been tinkering with for the past half hour, to look in the direction I pointed towards.

He pushes off the van, "Ya, the hell's the other guy?" He grips his crossbow tightly, I only notice because I see his muscles tense from the strain.

I yank my eyes away from him and squint to get a better look and, sure enough, there are four people coming this way. They start jogging and soon I am able to recognize three of the people, but there's one guy tagging along that I've never seen before. They all have their hands full with bags, some with a picture of a tent on them. The first thing I notice about the new guy is the red hat he's wearing. I stand, legs shaking slightly, but quickly recover before anyone (cough, Daryl, cough) notices. I put my hand against the van to steady myself as the group finally reaches the van.

Shane and Daryl exchange pleasantries, by which of course I mean Daryl gestures towards the newcomer and asks who "the asian kid" is and Shane tells him to get out of his face. All the while I realize I'm surrounded by testosterone and wait for the inevitable fight to break out and wondering which would win, the tough guy cop or the agile, muscled hunter. Is this how guys feel when two girls start to bicker at each other? I let out a little laugh at the thought and notice the new guy giving me a weird look.

Well Daryl was right about the asian aspect, he looks around my age as well and looks a little freaked out (understandably). I instantly decide he's trustworthy, he doesn't have the face of some secretly evil being, like Ed, so I introduce myself while Daryl and Shane play a game of 'mine's bigger', "Hey, I'm Eve. Who're you?"

He looks at me blankly for a moment before regaining his composure and answering, "I'm Glenn."

After the guys are done with their pissing match, T-Dog begins to stuff everyone's bag in the back of the van. Shane continues to glare at Daryl as Daryl takes his former place in front of me and Glenn sits next to me. He tells me about how he was in the store getting some cans of food when a 'geek' (apparently that's what he calls those things) grabbed at him. Luckily, Shane and the others came in at that moment and helped him. He says that Shane started walking away, but T-Dog mentioned the camp and he asked if he could come. Reluctantly, Shane agreed, after glaring at T-Dog, and they all started bagging up as many groceries as they could fit in the bags before going to a camping supply store and getting as much as they could carry before heading back to the van.

I find myself enjoying his company, he seems nice and easy to get along with. Pretty much the opposite of Daryl. Talking to him makes the drive go by a lot faster too. I think I hear Daryl huffing a few times, but write it off as my overactive imagination. I tell him what little information I don't mind revealing about myself, I have no siblings or family, I was going to school for a history major with emphasis on Ancient Greek and Egypt mythology, and I tell him what I can about the camp. When we do pull into camp it's late afternoon and once we stop Daryl bolts out of the van, going straight to his side of camp.

"What's his problem?" Glenn asks as we start unloading the van. Shane is having us put everything in the middle of camp where he starts having people set up tents around. Shane tells us to start putting all the food in the Winnebago that's parked towards the entrance of the camp. I have to admit that Shane barking orders at everyone is actually starting to annoy me. Who elected him as leader? Either way, I stay quiet and help out because no one else is stepping up to lead the group. I know I definitely won't.

"Him and his brother, Merle, are kind of…different." When he gives me a quizzical glance I continue, "Well Merle is a misogynist and a pervert, while Daryl is, well I'm not too sure about him."

He nods in understanding, "How'd you learn that much about him in just a day?" We load our arms with cans as we make another trip to the RV.

I laugh, "Oh boy, it was an oddly revealing day. (Pun not intended) Just trust me, Merle is is about as subtle as a hammer on a landmine."

He laughs as we set the cans on the counter and he looks at me, "I'll take your word for it."

Stepping out of the RV, we come face to face with Shane. I jump slightly in surprise. He looks to Glenn behind me, "You said you knew the streets in the city pretty well, right?"

Glenn looks at me before looking back to Shane again, "Uhm ya."

"Good. I'm assigning you to do runs into town when we need supplies." Not even a please? He has a hard look on his face, leaving no room to say no. Well for most people, that is. Why would only Glenn go? Why wouldn't he have someone to back him up?

Before I realize it, I'm voicing my concerns, "By himself?" I can't help but hear the indignation in my voice. How can he think it's ok to send Glenn out there by himself? No one should go out there alone. Safety in numbers right?

Glenn pipes up before Shane can respond, "That's fine, I can get in and out. No problems." He looks between the two of us, but I'm still not ok with people going out there by themselves and Glenn seems the type to just go along with something to prevent any problems from arising.

"I'll still go with you, just for backup. No one should go out there alone." Glenn looks surprised at my offer, while Shane looks annoyed.

"We need help here, too." By 'help' I'm sure he means doing the laundry or cooking. Which has already been assigned to Lexi and Carol, of course the menial tasks get assigned to the women. I resist the urge to yell in his face, getting the vibe that he wouldn't stand for that coming from a woman, it's not like it'll do any good anyways.

"I'm sure there's plenty of volunteers to do chores, safety out there is a more important factor. Don't you think?" I can hear the annoyance in my voice, but I don't try to hide it this time. I won't just stay here and do nothing, not when I know I can do more. Maybe I feel the need to redeem myself after today, but I also don't want to see something bad to happen to anyone, not if I can help.

He responds, tight-lipped in frustration, "Of course." Not waiting for another response he walks off. Probably to go boss someone else around.

"You don't have to go with me, really, it's ok." I turn back towards Glenn, his face lined with worry.

"I want to. Don't worry, I'm tougher than I look." At least I hope I am. He looks unsure, probably because I could barely stand when we first met. "Besides, I just really don't want to do laundry."

He laughs while we make our way back to the van. When we see there's no more to unpack we say goodnight and head for bed. Well he goes off in the direction of an empty tent and I grab my bow out of the van, dropping it in the tent Lexi is fast asleep in, and make my way to the rest of camp after making sure my gun is still in my jeans.

I go back to the RV, having the intention to put the cans away instead of just leaving them all over the counter. I've always had trouble sleeping, usually only getting about 6 hours, and it seems that the world ending isn't going to change that. I might as well do something useful if I'm not going to be sleeping. I learned that the owner of the RV is a man named Dale, an older guy who seems exceptionally kindhearted. There were two sisters with him named Amy and Andrea, who seemed nice enough but a little shaken by whatever happened to them out there.

When I get to the RV I see Dale putting the cans away, I knock on the open door to signal my presence. He smiles brightly when he recognizes me, "Oh hey, Evelyn right?"

"Yep, you call me Eve though." I step up into the RV and begin helping him. I notice the door to the bed in the back is closed, so I assume that's where Amy and Andrea sleep.

"With a name like Evelyn, it's a shame to call you anything else." He hands me a can of corn and I put it in the pantry.

"It was my mother's name too, so I would always go by Eve." I remember the first time she called me Eve, I was playing pokémon on my gameboy and showed her my favorite pokémon that I finally managed to catch, Eevee. She laughed and said I was as cute as Eevee was, since then she always called me by that name. I guess it just stuck with me.

He gives me an understanding look, "I lost my wife too, before all this. I would tell you it eventually gets better, but I don't think it does. You just learn to live without them, one way or another." I imagine he looks just as sad as I do right now.

"The only comfort I take now is knowing she wasn't around for this." Both with what my step-father did and now this.

He nods in agreement, "That's what I was thinking." He hands me another can and we continue to put things away. It's weird talking about my mom with someone other than Lexi. There's not a day that goes by that I don't miss her.

"Thanks for letting us store the food in here." I know Shane didn't thank him, so I figured someone should.

"Well, I didn't seem to have a choice," he chuckles lightly and I can only guess that Shane pretty much just offered his RV up without asking. "Either way, it's no trouble."

We finish putting everything away in a few minutes, "Well, I'll see ya later. It was good talking to you Dale." I really mean it too, he's easy to talk to.

"Anytime, Evelyn." He gives me a small smile and I walk out of the RV, saying goodnight as I leave.

I stop suddenly when I notice he small collection of books on a shelf to the side of the door. I look over some titles before my eyes fall on a certain favorite of mine, one my mom used to read to me as a little girl. I pick up his copy of Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen and run my hand down the familiar cover.

"You must learn some of my philosophy. Think only of the past as its remembrance gives you pleasure." His tone takes on a nostalgic tone and he quotes Elizabeth Bennet. The quote is only fitting at a time like this. "You may have it, I doubt many other people here have any fondness for the classics."

I smile at his offer, "Thank you, really, I always loved this book." He nods his head, smiling kindly at me. I wave my second goodbye and make my way out of the RV.

Not feeling the least bit ready for bed, I decide to walk down to the quarry. As I walk down I see the moon reflect off the water and I'm stunned for a moment by the beauty of it. How is is possible to still find something so beautiful at a time like this. When I make it down the path I put my gun and book on one of the rocks and go to sit down as I notice spots of blood on my shirt. I take it off and see dots in the same place on my tank top. Disgusted, I take that off too and walk over to the lake. I start scrubbing at the blood under the water, pleased that it comes off easily. Looking out over the water I get a sudden urge to do something I haven't done since freshmen year when Lexi took me to her parents lake house for spring break. She told me everyone should skinny-dip at least once in their life.

I look around me, seeing if there's anyone else around before taking my knife holster off and slipping out of my jeans as well. I keep my bra and panties on, not feeling the desire to go completely nude. I dunk my jeans in the water a few times to get any dirt off them and place all my clothes against a nearby rock. I take a quick glance around me and, feeling confident that no one is around, I walk into the water. A few minutes in the water makes me relax almost instantly, the feeling of grime and sweat washing off me to be replaced with one of pure joy.

I dunk my head in to rinse my face off and when I open my eyes again I see someone walking down the path. I quickly get out and start putting my clothes on, figuring with my luck it's probably Merle. I'm putting my flannel on when I realize the person is Carol's husband. Ed, I'm pretty sure. Either way, I remember he gave me the creeps. Still does, especially now.

"Need some comp'ny?" The look Merle gave me this morning is nothing compared the the one covering Ed's face. He's made his way over to stand right in front of me, staring me up and down in a way that makes me want to puke. Unfortunately, that's a look I used to know all too well, courtesy of my step father. Knowing the implications of that look, I glance over to where my gun is and see my knife as well.

"No, not really." I cross my arms over my chest and hope I look intimidating enough for him to leave me alone.

As he stares at my chest, however, I realize there's no chance of that. "It wadnt' really a question." He moves in closer and as I try to get around him he grabs at my wrist, locking me in place.

I feel panic and anger rush trough me, "Let me go now, or you'll regret it later." I try to yank my arm out of his grasp and walk away, but feel a pull at my resistance. As I'm forced to turn back around to face him I feel his hand go across my face. I put my hand against my cheek, the stinging already biting against the feel of my hand. He hits a lot harder than I'm used to.

"Women ain't suppos'ta make demands, jus' take 'em." He pulls me against him and I feel him start to mess with my shirt, working on the buttons, as I begin to truly loose it. I squirm against him, but when that doesn't do any good I kick at his shin as hard as I can. He manages to waver slightly, but doesn't let me go. He does, however, hit me again, causing me to become dizzy and I fall on the ground. This isn't good.

"That's better." He cracks an evil smile and I feel dread wash over me.

I use all my anger to bring my knee up against his groin when he tries to get on top of me, I grab my gun and aim it at him, "Touch me again and I won't hesitate to shoot you." I fight past the dizziness I feel, grabbing my knife as I walk away from his pathetic cries.

In my haste to get away, coupled with my wooziness, I manage to run into someone which makes me fall back on my ass. I don't look up as I I will myself not to start crying in frustration. As if the world ending wasn't bad enough, this day seems to have topped even that. A hand comes into view, forcing me to look up at the owner, Daryl. I cautiously take his hand and wipe at my butt to get rid of the dirt, "What are you doing here?"

He looks behind me, at Ed, before looking back to me with an eyebrow raised, "Pickin' daises. You?" He crosses his hands over his chest as he takes in my wild appearance.

I feel myself wobble slightly before trying to make my way around Daryl, still very eager to get the hell out of here, "Oh, hum just taking out the trash." I look back at Ed, who seems to be recovering slightly as he's actually standing now and glaring at us. I look back to Daryl, who's staring Ed down, "Well, night."

I stumble my way up the path as I trip over a rock I hadn't noticed, but see Daryl waking along beside me, easily keeping my pace, "D'ya need help?" The way he asks that question with such concern surprises me.

I smile weakly at him, "Thanks, but I'll be fine, nothing I can't handle." I walk off to my tent before he has time to respond, looking back to see him walking towards the woods. First, he reprimands me in the city and the next, he genuinely acts concerned. I don't get him at all…I zip my text up and lay on the sleeping bag laid next to Lexi's motionless form. That night I spent waking at any little noise and rarely slept at all, my grip on my gun never wavering. I had a sinking feeling this would become a more common occurrence in the days to come.

Fun Fact: If one arrow hits another one dead on and then splits it or even becomes embedded inside it, it is known as Robin Hood.