This is why i dont socialize

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I hold a hand over ma eyes blockin' out the bright mid afternoon sun.

The sound is the first to assault me. The sound of life.

Chickens cluck. I think I even hear a cow. The harsh sound of a forge, and the district grunts of hard work.

Next is the smells. Fresh spices, cookin' meat and the metallic scent of iron or steel.

At first the world is bright, then slowly it darkens, revealing a community, a sanctuary of its own.

At the heart of the community is a three story historical building. Surrounding it are small portable trailers that have been converted into homes.

Mixed in between are home made structures, some are simple covers to protect the forge, others serve to keep the flourishing gardens growing.

"Simon! I wasn't expecting you for another couple of days!" Comes a obnoxiously fake voice.

Standing beside me simon leans closer. "This is Gregory, he's the leader of hill top but I've been trying to off him for months. You'll see why." He mutters before raising his voice. "No I told you twelve. It gave you extra time to prepare what you skimped out on last visit."

The man-Gregory- shakes his head, Gray hair standing on end. He wears a spotless suit, his face clean and pale despite the hot sun beating down on this community. "I must have miscounted. Come inside, I have a nice bottle of whiskey we can drink while you take the usual." He suggests. Ya can't miss the annoyed look burning in his cowardly gaze.

I cross my arms over my chest. A small sneer curling my lip.

"No, I'm going to stay out here and make sure everything is in order." Simon decrees.

Gregory looks flustered but nods his head. "That's fair."

Simon wanders around snooping through the couple crates that's trickle back to the trucks.

I wander around curiously picking up objects that I find unique and uncommon in this new world. The people don't seem pleased with me snooping 'round so I make my way over to the trucks and lean against the side.

"So a pretty lady like you working for a man like that-" Gregory swaggers towards me jabbin' a thumb over towards Simon who appears to be cracking a joke.

"That's got to be stressful. I would like to offer my sympathy, here at hilltop we could find a place for you, I could use a beautiful woman around-" I whip towards him, viciously throwing a bone crushing punch go his nose.

Gregory staggered backwards, an obnoxious unpleasant sound gurgling in the back of his throat as I shake out my hand, admiring the broken skin on my knuckles.

The hilltop community goes quiet, even the saviors stop to see what's happened.

"You best listen up and listen well. I ain't no damn whore and I ain't gonna let you think otherwise," I seethe in his face, loud enough for everyone to hear. "I am Negan. Don't go forgettin' it."

Gregory wisely tries to pull himself back up and run inside his palace with his remaining scraps of dignity while I lean back against the truck, inspecting my knuckles with a grimace.

Simon slides up to me side crossing his arms while he whistles his praise. "That, has to be the greatest thing I've seen in a while. And before you start firing off questions yes I'm telling Negan but I am not going to leave out that last line 'I am Negan. Don't go forgetting it'. Saviors only say it if they get asked by the man himself but you... that's going to perk him right up. Your a natural out here," Simon glances around to make sure everyone is still following orders. "Why don't you go inside poke around until you see something you like and take it. I won't tell." He gives me a toothy grin.

"Yeah, alright. I'll be real quick though. You best be fixin' to off that ass hat real soon." I advise before taking a quick jog up to the large historical site. I never seen one of these before, they're awfully pretty.

A few saviors roam the large carved wood halls, some carry boxes or packs of stuff while others walk in packs holdin' intense conversation with hilltop peoples.

I duck inside the first closet I come across. It's long, stacked high with random little knick knacks and priceless treasures. I pry open an unmarked box at the back.

Inside are small little things, souvenirs
Small photos, film and sticky melted candies. I slide the box off the stack and continue down into the next. The box pops open with a cloud of dust. I cough swatting it out of my face. Peering inside the box I shuffle through into I stumble on something I haven't seen in a long time.

Resting at the bottom of the box, it's lenses facing up at me as if it's watchin' is a small faded grey Polaroid camera from the eighties. With gentle hands I pick it out of the box. I peer through the eye hole focusing on the door frame and joking press the capture button. A brilliant flash of light brightens the closet and blinds me momentarily. I jolt backwards, clutching the camera. Slowly it spits out a white picture, the image having yet to process.

I shake the piece of film eager to see if the camera actually works.

"Well I'll be damned." I snicker as the doorframe slowly develops, starting out very white as the image burns on the paper. I toss the photo down, and quickly grab the couple packs of film from the other box. Then after stuffing the film in my pocket I run back out to Simons side.

"Find something?" He rises from his seat on the back bumper of the truck.

"Sure did. Found an old Polaroid, ya remember when these things were a thing?" I ask him honestly holding the camera out to him.

"I sure do. I took mine everywhere with me. Negan radio'd he wants us back now. Said anything the community didn't give us now they can drop off at the compound in a few days. I'm going to threaten those ones, tell them I want Gregory's Head." Simon smirks climbing into the truck. His voice is low so only I can hear him.

I climb in too. Not quite paying attention to what he says. I sit down with my gaze set in the camera in my hands. Wonder what would happen if I surprise Negan and get his picture? That'd be funny.

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