Self Inflicted

15

I woke up earlier this morning to get a head start for Macon. I packed my bags and anything I thought I needed, I didn't take any guns other than my pistol. My outfit is the same as always with a tank top, dark jeans, boots, and my hair is thrown up in a ponytail with bubble braids. I throw my bag over my shoulder and gently wake Michonne. "I'm leaving," I whisper.

"Be careful and come back," she say groggily. I nod my head and squeeze her arm before exiting the cell. I run into Rick who is just waking up and walking out of his cell with Carl.

"Leaving?" He grumbles.

"Yeah, wanted to get on the road early," I sigh.

"Be careful out there," his voice is thick and hoarse in the morning.

"I will, take care of things. Take care of yourself, Rick," I send him a small smile and he gives me an appreciate nod.

"You too." I walk away from him and out into the court yard where I run into Daryl cleaning his arrows and messing with his bike.

"You're still leaving?" He questions.

"Yeah."

"Why? The trial went cold," he grumbles and stands, walking up to me.

"I have to try, one more time," I shrug yet insist.

"It's stupid to keep going out there," he grunts.

"Then I guess I'm stupid," I snap back. Through the past few months, Daryl, Michonne and I had gone looking for the governor together. Eventually we were going further out and decided to go one at a time. Daryl hasn't gone in weeks but me and Michonne can't give up.

"Take care of yourself out there," he grumbles and walks away.

"You too," i call. I wanted him to hear it even if he didn't want to. I turn around and head down to the stalls to get our horse saddled and ready to go. Once I do, I walk her out and down to the gates where Glenn, who had just climbed down from the tower he slept in with Maggie last night, helped me leave calling be careful to me and I return the favor.

-

I've been following the map and the roads I'm wanting to take, I've been riding for a few hours now. I'm looking for any sign of life, anywhere that looks like someone might be living. I've taken a couple breaks for my horse to get some water and to give her some food. It's getting close to noon which means I have about 5 or 6 hours of daylight left.

I come up on an old store, beaten down and faded from the weather and lack of care. I get off the horse and tie her to one of the posts. Grabbing my sword and entering the building slowly and quietly, I look around at the wreck in front of me. The ground is covered in leaves, dirt, torn apart shelves, and food. I stop and listen for a second and I don't hear anything which is a good sign but that isn't always full proof. There are a couple bags of chips and a can of beans that I stuffed into my bag. Going through the store and to the back, there are a couple empty cans of food and some things lying around. Someone was living here or at least stayed here, it wasn't that long ago, maybe a day or two.

That's a sign. A sign that there's someone out there, whether they're good or bad, they're out there. It could be the governor. I am praying it is. The mission continues and after a few more hours of more abandoned buildings I come across a house. A white two story house with a once beautiful wrap around porch, there is a garage off to the left side. I clear the house quickly and carefully and with only an hour or so left of daylight I decide to spend the night here. I make my way into the garage, there's some tools laying aimlessly and a bike off to the side. I lift up the garage door and call my horse inside, giving the outside world on last glance before shutting the door. I find a bowl and leave her some water and a little bit of food.

I make my way into the living room, the house is decently clean but there are still random things strewn across the rooms. I search the upstairs bedroom and find some luckily unopened deodorant and use it, throwing it in my bag. There are a few water bottles in the pantry and a couple cans of food. I open one of the cans of soup and enjoy it while sitting on the couch. I made sure to shut the door and lock it, praying anything that wants to come in won't be able to. I lay my bag and sword beside me on the ground and stretch out on the couch. It feels good to relax but I'm still being cautious.

-

There was nothing I could've done. I was asleep. Hands grabbed my wrists and picked me up swiftly from my spot. "What the hell?" I yell at the stranger in front of me. He snickers and stares back at me for a second, tying my wrists. When he's finished, he continues eye contact with deep brown eyes. "Who are you? What the hell is going on?"

"You're claimed," he throws me onto the couch and I sit with my hands tied in front of me. Claimed? What the hell does that mean? Who is this guy? Why me? So many things are running through my head and I'm panicking. Six other men walk into the room, toting weapons and smirks. A man with silver hair and a silver go-t walks forward and gives me a smile.

"Want to tell us your name?"

"Go to hell," I sneer. He gives me a nod and turns around swiftly. "Alright boys, looks like we're holding up here for the night." They disperse throughout the house and I keep hearing the same word, claimed. I sit stiffly on the couch and the guy that was in my face plops down beside me and throws his feet up on the coffee table.

"Name's Len, I found ya first, I claimed ya," he snickers proudly.

"The hell does that mean?"

"Means you're all mine."

"I don't belong to anyone, you stupid bastard," I spit at the filth covered man. He leans over quickly and roughly grabs me by the jar, turning my face to look at him.

"That's not how things work around here. You're mine, or you're dead," he throws my face out of his hands and gets up and walks out of the room. I'm scared of all the possibilities he wants me for. I turn my head to my left to check for anyone and there's no one around, but they are in the next room so I need to be careful. I bend over and grab the knife from my boot, opening it and awkwardly and painfully I begin cutting away at the shoe laces around my wrists. I hear footsteps and close it quickly, stuffing the knife into my pants. Len walks back in with a bag and throws it on an arm chair. With long strides he's back sitting beside me, eating something from a can.

"What's your name?" He asks between bites. I don't respond and stare straight ahead at the wall with aimless picture frames and a window. "Hey, I asked your a question," he shouts and I jump.

"Luna," he raises his eyebrows in anticipation of my continuation. "Perez." He finishes his can and sets it down on the coffee table, turning to face me.

"Fits," he sneers. "You know it's been a long long time," he says slowly and coldly, running his hand just as slow up my thigh. I shiver at his touch and clench my teeth together with a scowl on my face. Quickly, he grabs me and throws me on my back on the couch and straddles me. He leans his face down to me and whispers. "Don't worry, I'll make it worth your while." He grabs my tied hands and throws them above my head and my breathing starts to grow rapid and tears swell my green eyes. He lets go of my hands and tears open my shirt, revealing my bare stomach and sports bra. His hands start traveling and he isn't looking at me so seize my opportunity.

I throw my hands down, hitting him across the head once and then quickly a second time, knocking him out completely. He is limp on top of me, covering half of my body. I bite at the shoe laces and take them off, throwing him off of me and quietly grab my sword. I don't know where my pistol is and I don't care, I have to get out of here. I can't hear anyone else but that doesn't mean they aren't close. I hurry to the window and throw it open, climbing through and dropping to the ground. I peer up at the porch and see no one so I run off into the woods, sprinting away from whatever those people are.

When the dead rose, it seemed as if that meant everything. All we thought about was the dead. But time and time again, we're being proven how ugly people can be. People are who we should be afraid of. Nasty people. The people who thrive in this world and chuckle at cynical things. I think i would've been happier if he had just killed me, I didn't need a reminder. Life now was a good distraction from the past. But almost reliving the past, I was more afraid of that. I don't care that I'm alone out here, I don't care that I have nothing. The memories are what is making my stomach churn.