I grab my backpack and shove food into it. It was fun with the make up, but I'm not going to bring any. Everyone agrees that we should leave today. We go out the back door, not wanting to be seen. We silently go down the street. A walker pops out from the side of the road and startles me. I fall on the ground and cut my knee. The walker almost topples onto me when Patrick gets it.
"Thanks." I say in pain.
"Welcome, let me take a look at that." And he kneels down next to me to look at the bloody mess on my knee.
"Does it hurt to move it?" He asks.

"No." I say.
"Well that's good, that means nothing is broken." He says.
"Okay." I respond.
"I'm going to put some medicine on it." He says while reaching into his backpack.
"Okay." I say.
He touches my cut and I wince. He looks at me. I nod. He starts to apply the medicine and I try not to move. When he is done, he is going to wrap my knee in a bandage. So that it can heal. He takes the bandage out of his bag and starts wrapping my knee in it. He helps me to my feet. I try and stand on my left leg, the one with the cut. It hurts. We continue on our journey.