"Put me down dammit!" I argued with rick at the front porch of the farm house. I didn't mean to come here, I mean I guess I wanted to but I knew it would be a mistake the moment I did it. The feeling of Ricks hands holding me off the ground though made me panic, the feeling of anything touching me made me sick to my stomach.

"Oh my god! Willow are you okay?" Andrea came scrambling over with a rifle in her hand.

I was on my own two feet again, Rick had scurried inside to grab Hershel. Daryl was being half dragged up the porch steps, blood rolling down his face from the gun shot. Another inch the left and he'd be dead... I could feel the blood dripping down my forearm as I place my other hand over it. I looked back at Andrea, fuming.

"Your're a shit shot you know that?" I said, giving her a nasty look.

"I had no idea it was you guys!" she replied, stuttering over her words in a panic.

I would have yelled at her some more, but I was tired, exhausted actually. My feet were blistered, I was bruised and battered, and now I've got this arm thing to deal with. I sighed and dropped my backpack down on the porch, taking a seat on the steps.

"It's fine, but next time you go to shoot something at least aim for the head, and you know... make sure its dead first," I scolded her.

She apologized about three more times before running inside probably to make sure Daryl was still breathing. I on the other hand was pulling out my first aid kit, somebody had to stitch this arm up and I wasn't about to ask.

"Here, allow me," a female voice said from behind.
A girl with short brunette hair sat beside me on the steps, and put the first aid kit in her lap.

"I'm Maggie by the way," she smiled at me, threading a needle.

"Willow, I can do this myself you don't have to," I told her.

"I insist, plus it looks like a walker practically blew up on you. No offense, but I doubt your hands are clean," she chuckled.

I cracked a small smile and let her to put about 4 stitches into my arm. She was sweet, but sweetness would get you killed in this world now a days. By her clean clothes and washed skin they'd been staying on this farm since the outbreak.

"There's a hose around back you can rinse off with, and then feel free to use the shower upstairs, I'll leave some clothes that should fit you on the counter. Daddy'd be pissed if you went strolling through the house lookin like that," she smiled at me again.

I thanked her and made my way behind the house, finding the green hose and giving a good stare for a minute. I almost felt like I was being pranked, running water in a place was hard to come by. I turned the nozzle half expecting no water to come out at all, but to my surprise it did. I rinsed off most of the biter guts, ignoring the feeling of being watched. I knew somebody was back there, I just didn't feel like dealing with it, but after a while it got irritating.

"You can come out," I called behind me. I waited a moment before hearing steps behind me.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to lurk," Carol stepped out from behind the house.

"What do you need?" I asked her, turning the water to the hose off.

"You didn't uh... happen to see Sophia out in the woods did you?" she asked in a sad voice.

I shook my head at her, I hate to say it but that little girl was dead the moment she got lost. I did comb through the woods a few days, but didn't come up with any sign of her.

"Oh... she was really sad when she found out you left, anyways, I'll leave you alone," she turned around and walked away, defeated.

"I'm sorry Carol," I said.

I almost wanted to say something more, like sorry for your loss, but I'm not sure if she'd come to terms with it quiet yet. That look in her eyes still had one sliver of hope left, but it was extinguishing faster then she probably liked.

"thank you. What happened to your neck? Your arms to?" she asked puzzled, studying me.

Looking down I noticed all the bruises, I was in such a hurry to run away I hadn't had time to notice them...

"Grabbed by a walker is all," I replied, crossing my arms in attempt to cover them.

Carol was a smart women, smarter then most people gave her credit for. She knew a bruise like this from a mile away, she was married to an abusive husband after all. She also knew when to quit asking questions, so she nodded her head at me and walked away. That day was just something I needed to forget about... for my sake.

I snuck back into the house, not wanting to run into any of the others and found the bathroom. Maggie left some clothes out like she promised she would, just a plain shirt and some dark jeans. After the first hot shower I'd had since probably the beginning of the outbreak, I was thankful to be able to remember what it felt like to be clean one more time.

After I got out I looked back at my reflection in the mirror, I looked awful. Arm stitched and wrists bruised, there was even more bruising around my neck and shoulders. I was a walking black and blue, beaten and broken, sad excuse of a survivor. I was furious at myself for letting those men take advantage of me like that. I should of killed them all... Instead I ran away like a scared child.

I didn't get a glance at a single one of their faces, but I could never forget that voice. His accent was so strong and southern it was unforgettable, it was stuck in my head like a broken record player.

"I"ll kill you," his voice echoed through my skull.