Vanessa Taylor, a sassy blue haired, tattooed cosmetologist with a mouth of a sailor was born and raised in Ohio. One summer while she was visiting her sick father, her connecting flight ends in the city getting shut down, leaving her stranded in th...
During the night, Daryl found me in Charlee's cell, gently and quietly shaking me awake, grumbling about joining him in our cell. I had rolled back over, resisting. He mumbles something about how I'm impossible to wake up. He took it upon himself to pick me up, carrying me bridal style through the cellblock until we reach our room. After setting me down, he gets up, sliding the door closed. Remembering my camera, I stand up, finding my bag. On top of it lays the Snow-White owl. I spin around facing him, "that's what you put in my bag?"
He nods. "Ya like Harry Potter."
"I didn't take you as someone who knew about it."
He shrugs. "Who doesn't know?"
"Touché. I even know my Hogwarts house, but that's neither here nor there." I return to my bag, finally finding my camera. I turn, "smile!" I click the button; the camera starts to make a whirring sound as it ejects the picture. I place it on the table, letting it develop. I sit next to him, facing the camera at both of us, snapping another picture. After the camera produces the film, I set it next to the other one. "I thought it was a good idea." I mention off hand. My heart sinks realizing this might be our only picture together.
He grabs it from my hand, facing it to me. "Smile." He grunts. "I want one of ya." I grin, looking to the man behind the camera. Click. Whir.
He places the camera and film down, crawling in next to me. He props his head up with his arm, looking over at me. "Are ya mad at me?"
I shake my head. "For a minute I saw Owen. I understand the actions you took, though."
"I wouldn't hurt ya." He pauses, running his hand along my arm, "if I ever meet the prick, I'm killin' him."
I smile. "Nah, I got dibs." Safe and sound in his arms, I begin to doze off again.
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I'm standing in D block, looking at the massacre around me. "What the fuck happened?" Shaking my head, pursing my lips. Screaming of terror had pulled us all in here from our various stations. I was outside, trying to save the fence from the dead that have piled against it overnight. It's getting worse. It's almost like a losing fight.
I take the stairs leading to the next level. A walker jumps at me, I stumble as it takes me down with it. "Fuck!" I keep my arms locked, trying to prevent it from sinking its teeth in me. Rick rushes to my aid, taking it down. He pulls it off of me, giving me his hand, helping me up. "Thanks." He brushes passed me to the cell that holds one of the dead, unable to get free. He grabs it, putting it out of its misery. He opens the door. I follow him in, with Daryl, Bob, Hershel, and Dr. S not far behind. I kneel next to Rick, noticing blood trailing from his eyes.
I realize I've been off my game the last few days. Anger to myself pulses through me. How can I be so stupid?
"No bites. No wounds." Rick examines the body. "I think he just died."
