Rowen hated the prison. The people here were nosy, that's what her dad said.
Rowen was put on farm duty for the time being, they said she would help Rick, and tend to the animals and the crops they had.
Rowen wanted to sit in the cell and read the book that she found. It was a romance book, she loved those.
But it didn't matter what she wanted to do, she was still outside, shoveling small holes in the ground so they could plant more crops.
"So Rowen, how are you liking it here?"
Rowen shrugged. "It's nice." Before Rick could pry into the short response more, he saw Carl walking towards them.
"Sasha wants to see you, something about Carol? I don't know." Carl's eyes drifted towards Rowen, she felt him looking she just didn't say anything.
"Okay, well can you take over for me here?" Rick handed Carl the container of beans they were planting
"No- dad!"
"I'll be five minutes!" And with that, Rick left Carl and Rowen alone. Carl heaved a sigh before looking at Rowen, only to find her already looking at him.
"What?" He spat.
"I like your cowboy hat." She bit the inside of her cheek as she began to dig again.
"It's a sheriff's hat." He mumbled back, his voice holding unnecessary venom.
"Looks like a cowboy hat to me." Rowen shrugged her shoulders.
Carl placed the bean sprout into the hole she dug, covering it with dirt. "Well, it's not!" Carl snapped. Rowen stopped talking then, she didn't want to get in trouble for fighting with the boy.
Rick did not come back in five minutes, in fact, Rick was gone for the rest of the day.
So she kept her mouth shut.. for the rest of the day.
☆
Rowen was grabbing food from the cafeteria when she heard her father walking in. Rather, she heard his footsteps, and he was mad.
She didn't think his anger was directed towards her, so she ignored him and continued shoveling food onto her plate. She hadn't eaten in days.
He grabbed her upper arm.
Her plate fell to the floor with a wet plop.
He drug her from the cafeteria into their cell. "What did I tell ya, girl!" Mark yelled
Rowen didn't answer, because, she had no idea what he was talking about. "Answer me when I talk to you dammit!"
His hand made contact with her cheek, her head snapped to the side, and her vision blurred. She still stayed silent.
It's always better to get it over with, she thought, rip off the bandaid.
"I told you not to trust these people!" She looked at her shoes, the worn purple Converse she had gotten for her tenth birthday, the day her mother left for good. Rowen hasn't seen her since.
Mark grabbed Rowen's face, pulling it up harshly "Answer me!" You didn't ask me a question, she wanted to say, but she stayed silent.
"Oh, so you're all big and tough now?!" She wondered how nobody had heard, she wished somebody would make it stop.
Mark grabbed his lighter, he grabbed his cigarettes, and he lit one. "Turn around." He took a deep inhale of the acrid smoke, she hated cigarettes. Maybe this is why. Rowen didn't know.
She turned, and he pulled down the collar of her shit to reveal the shoulder already littered with cigarette burns. Rowen stared at the blank cement wall ahead of her, she knew it was coming, but she hardly felt it as the butt of the cigarette came in contact with her scarred skin.
Over and over, again and again. The cigarette was lit and pressed to her shoulder blade, silent tears rolled down her cheeks until it was nothing but paper and ashes, and there was no tobacco left to burn.
So Mark let go of her shirt, threw the cigarette on the ground, and left the cell.
Rowen climbed up to her bunk and curled her arms around her knees. Rowen hated when she got in trouble, but he did it because he loved her. At least that's what he told her. Rowen doesn't know right from wrong anymore.
So with tear stained cheeks, she tried her best to differentiate right from wrong, but she always got stuck on the same part.
Does he love her?
★
Everyone heard the yelling, but nobody made a move to see why there was yelling. So, Carl did. He walked into cell block D and he followed the yelling to the same cell he was at just the day before.
"Oh, so you're all big and tough now!?" Carl knocked on the cell door, there was no answer, so he pulled back the curtain. Both Rowen and her father had their backs to him. Mark was repeatedly lighting a cigarette and pressing into her shoulder. Carl saw many scars on her shoulder, some old, some new, some were round, and some were straight.
Carl was confused at first. He didn't understand why he was burning his daughter. The man seemed nice, polite. He was just smiling and talking with Carl's dad just hours prior. Now he was intentionally hurting his child- his blood.
Carl could only recall one time his father had ever hurt him, he was nine and playing in the kitchen while his parents cooked. His dad took the pot of noodles from the stove to drain them and in the process tripped over Carl and hit the hot pan on his arm. Carl had first degree burns down his left forearm for weeks. Rick hadn't brought Carl any pain, in any way, again.
Carl walked from the cell block as fast as he could. He needed to tell someone, he thought. Maybe Rick or maybe Maggie. Just- somebody.
So he did. He bolted into the cafeteria and pulled aside the first person he saw.
Daryl.
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[EDITED]
-Sadie⭐️
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