"Ah shit, Merle, it missed."

I felt it. I didn't want to look, but I felt it. I forced myself to stare down at my left hand, and there it was. Exactly what I felt.

I wasn't sure what was worse, the feeling of an arrow going straight through your palm or the sight of it. It took me a moment to register what had happened, and only a moment more to register the pain.

I did my equivalent of a scream, which was just a quiet squeaking and a rush of air. I couldn't seem to blink or close my mouth as I sunk down to my knees, pinned to the back of Dale's RV. I tried to take my hand off but the pain was so bad I could barely see, so I just stared at it hoping this was all some sort of terrible dream. I tried to wiggle my fingers. I tried to pretend like my ring and middle finger were moving with the rest, instead of sitting dead on my knuckles.

The blood, oh god, the blood. I was sobbing, completely silent in my pain.

"Goddamn it, the fuckin' beast got away."

This wasn't supposed to happen. I should have been in my tent with Glenn, sliding my hand down into his pants, not pinned to the back of an RV like a pest.

I kept trying to make noise but nothing happened. I thought about hitting the RV, maybe trying to wake up Dale or the sisters, but I was too petrified to do anything.

"Where's that fucking arrow?"

"Hell if I know."

"Go find it."

The blood was dripping down my arm. What if Glenn thought I bailed on him?

"Ah hell, I think it went into camp, Merle. Shit. They ain't gonna let this go."

"You think I give a shit?"

I kept staring at my hand. It looked foreign. Like it didn't belong on me, just hanging there against the RV.

I could hear the men who owned those voices come closer. I saw them push aside some of the tree branches and bushes. They were coming.

The younger of the two was the first to see me. He had dead animals hanging off of his belt. I assumed he was one of the Dixon brothers.

"Oh shit!" He looked back at what I guessed was his brother. "Merle! Merle!"

"What the fuck are you yellin' about?"

They were nowhere close to quiet, and some of the people from camp were starting to come out to investigate noise. I didn't know if Glenn was one of them. I could tell someone in the RV was up, because the vehicle was moving ever so slightly.

I was cold, aside from the warm blood dripping all over my palm and forearm.

Shane was out and approaching. I was fairly sure T-Dog had come out as well. I doubted Morales would have left; he'd have probably stayed in his tent with his kids and wife. I couldn't really focus on anything other than my hand. Oh god, my hand.

I was still crying quite violently, even though no one could hear me.

"You mind keeping it down?" Shane growled, coming into view, playing his role of town sheriff. "People are - Oh shit!"

'Oh shit' seemed to be the general consensus. With the exception of me, of course. I was less 'oh shit' and more 'AGHHHHHH MY FUCKING HAND.'

"What the fuck happened?"

"What's going on?"

"Who the fuck is this? She wasn't here before, how the fuck was I supposed to know some tiny little bitch'd be walkin' around at night?"

"Watch it, Dixon."

"Could you shut up? There are kids trying to slee- oh Jesus!"

"Oh god, look at her hand! Oh god!"

"What happened?"

"Did you shoot her?"

"Why is everyone awake?"

"Dale, get over here! Look at her hand!"

"Someone get the poor girl some help!"

"Eden? Eden!"

So many voices were speaking at once; I couldn't keep up. I did recognize Glenn calling my name through the chaos. I also heard someone heave at the sight of me. There were a lot of people out now. Andrea, Amy, Dale, T-Dog and Lori had come over to investigate.

Glenn pushed through everyone to get to me. People kept talking and yelling but I could only focus on one thing at a time. He dropped to his knees in front of me.

"Oh fuck! Oh fuck fuck fuck! Eden, oh god!"

He grabbed my face and made me look at him.

"I'm so sorry," he said. "I'm so fucking sorry!"

He looked completely terrified, so I guess we were on the same page again.

"Do I take it out!" He yelled out at everyone, his voice hysteric. When he didn't get a response he screamed it. "DO I TAKE THE FUCKING THING OUT!"

"I'll do it," The more remorseful of the Dixon brothers said, kneeling down beside me. Glenn made a face at him I was guessing, because he continued, "You really wanna have to pull that shit out yourself?"

Glenn looked back at me, apologetic. I was just staring out into space now, barely able to focus on what was happening.

"Okay," he forfeited. He took my other hand and kept his right hand on my face, making sure I didn't look. "Do it."

I felt an unfamiliar hand press my wrist against the back of the RV.

"I'm so sorry for this," Glenn said softly, stroking my cheek. "I'm so sorry..."

"Get ready."

In a quick motion I felt the arrow rip clean out of my hand. I lurched forward against Glenn, silently screaming, fresh tears spilling down my face. I could feel the Dixon brother let go of my wrist and it dropped to the ground. I tried to hold on and stay conscious but I couldn't.

"It's okay, it's going to be okay, it's all going to be okay," was the last thing I heard before I blacked out.