Sorry it's been a little while... been busy. Keep reviews coming! ~A.C~

Mia

I lay in my bed under Carl's. I couldn't get the image of that boy out of my mind. That and the image of Luke dying. Chandler's incident was the most gruesome thing I've seen since the night Luke died. I remember it clearly. He was arguing with me. I don't need you! You're lucky I let you stay! You're lucky I let you even live! There are some crazy people out there, and I could just shove you out of these woods and- He never finished the sentence. I was too busy cowering in the corner and crying to see the geeks wind around the corner and get closer and closer. I didn't notice until it was too late. I remember the last thing he said to me. You bastard! He said. I snapped back to reality and realized I was sobbing. I couldn't wake Carl up like this every night, so I tried my best to shut up. I heard crutches echoing in the hall. Herschel must be awake. I got up carefully and peeked out the door. To my surprise, it was Chandler, not Herschel. I opened the door. Now that he was coherent and less bloody, I realized that he was quite handsome. He had a thin, muscular build; he must have been a runner. He had blonde hair that he had to push out of his face a lot. He was very tan, and his face was as thin as his body. He hobbled over to me.

"Hi. I couldn't sleep, so I went for a walk. Well, it's more of a crutch than anything…" Chandler said.

"True. I couldn't sleep either," I say.

He finally reaches me and we lean against a wall.

"So what's the deal with you and Carl?" he asks.

"He's my boyfriend," I say.

He nods.

"Glenn and Maggie are going out too. I think Daryl has a thing for Carol too…" I trail off.

"You know what, I probably should know the who's who if I'm gonna be here for a while," he says.

"I'm not sure if that's the best idea..." I say nervously.

He scoffs. "Come on! Do I really look like someone who would reveal this type of stuff the first guys who asks? I was tortured for Christ's sake!" he says.

"You do have a point, but we can't make any chances." I say sternly.

"Fine. I understand. So, Can I ask you questions about yourself?" he asks.

"To a certain point. Ask away," I say.

"Well, how old are you?"

I thought about it for a minute. It's not that personal, so I go ahead and answer.

"Thirteen."

"Me too. Where did you come from?"

" I'm from here, in Georgia," I say.

"I came from Florida."

That would explain the tan. I realized that I was really tired.

"I'm gonna try and sleep again," I yawn.

He nods. "I'll see you around."

I retire to my bed. I'm half asleep when Carl speaks.

"What was that about?"

I nearly scream. "What was what about?"

"I saw you out there with Chandler. What did you tell him?"

"He asked me how old I was and where I was from. And I told him that we were dating. Then I excused myself to bed," I said nervously.

"Ok. Be careful when you're talking to him. Don't reveal too much," he says.

"I'm not an idiot, Carl. He tried to find out about the 'who's who' here, and I refused. I know how it works."

"Alright," he said stiffly.

I wanted to tell him to quit being such an ass so badly. He was being very irate lately, and I don't know why. Then I reminded myself of the situation we are in. He's a teenage boy, who has shot his mother and god knows who else. I wonder what happened to him to make him this way.

"I wanna talk more about before I found you," Carl said suddenly, as if he read my mind.

"Alright..." I say uncertainly.

I climb up the ladder and lie down next to him. He puts his arm around my shoulder and we begin talking.

"So, what do you wanna know?" I ask.

"As much as you wanna tell me."

"Well, if I tell you this, you have to tell me more about before you found me, too."

"Alright, deal. So, start from the last time I saw you," he said.

"Ok. After we were released from school that day, I walked home. When I got there, my parents had gone already," I said, tearing up. "It said that they had left, and they didn't bring me because I would only slow them down. They didn't need a little bag of shit like me anyway. So, I grabbed all the kitchen knives and left. I tried your house; you'd already left. So, then I went to my Uncle Vinnie's house. That was about a day's walk. I got there and…" I trailed off. "Anyway, after that I just decided to give up looking for people and try to get along on my own. Then, Luke found me. I was dying when he did. I was dehydrated, starving, and I had a bad wound."

I paused to lift up my shirt. I revealed a long scar stretching from the top of my ribs to my hip. He studied it, and lifted his hand to touch it. I pulled down my shirt quickly and crossed my arms over my stomach.

"Anyway, he found me. He put on his nice face for a while. Then he revealed his true colors. He hit me if I did something wrong or made too much noise. He did some… other things. I was planning to get away when he died. I tried once but he caught me. I remember what he said when he did. 'If you ever try to leave again, then I'll beat your ass, for the last time. Quit being an ungrateful bitch,' he said to me. Then, a couple days later, he was beating me. He hit me hardest that time. He raised his hand to hit me, and a geek got his hand. I remember that he started to plead. I remember his last words…"

Then I was done. I couldn't talk about it anymore. He caressed the back of my head as I wept silently.

"Your turn," I choked out.

He sighed. "You sure you're ready for this?"

"You say that like it's the story of the holocaust of something," I say softly.

"It's not that far off." He said sadly.

I think about what could be that bad, other than killing his mother. I brace myself emotionally for the worst.

"I'm ready," I say.