When I reached my room, small stings of fear pricked my arms and legs; my door had been shut while I was gone. I turned the doorknob to open it, but it was locked. I heard a frantic rustling coming from inside. I quickly put my ear up to the door to listen closer, jiggling the doorknob again. It wouldn't budge.

"Hello?" I started knocking on the door. "Who the hell's in my room?" Something clattered to the ground and I immediately became frantic. "What the fuck, open the door!" I began jiggling the doorknob again, taking breaks to knock. I stopped, remembering I usually kept a bobby pin in my pocket that I used to pin my hair back. I fished it out and began to pick the lock. After a few unsuccessful attempts, the door finally swung open. I scanned the room, my eyes falling on pictures that had been scattered all over my floor. My hands began to sweat. Andrea stared at me like a deer in the headlights, a couple pictures in her hand. She began to stutter like she was about to say something to defend herself.

"What the hell are you doing in my stuff," I raised my voice in anger, rushing at her. "Those are personal!" I snatched the photos from Andrea, holding them close to my chest.

"I-I've just noticed you've been more reclusive than usual," she admitted.

"These are hidden for a reason," my voice wavered as my eyes flickered over the pictures.

"I know what you're going through, Aften." Andrea stared at me with misty eyes. "The same thing happened to me." I ignored her, dropping to my knees and scooping all the pictures up into a large pile.

"Just get out," I impatiently ordered. She bowed her head in sadness and left me alone with my pile of memories. My hands shook as I held up a picture of my family; my dad's face had been scratched out with a quarter, something I did to it years ago. I didn't hesitate to crumple it up and throw it into the corner. I picked up another photo: my mom and dad. Tears pricked my eyes as I shoved it into the box that had fallen onto the floor, every other picture Andrea decided to pull out going in with it.

"You know what happened to Blondie," Merle's rough voice suddenly questioned from the doorway, startling me. I turned around to glance at him, shooting him a glare. "Well shit, girl, sorry I bothered."

"She went through my shit," I muttered, shoving the lid onto the box. "My personal pictures." I stood up and shuffled over to the closet.

"Personal pictures," Merle snickered. There it was. There was him pickin' at me like I asked him not to earlier in the truck... his foulness amazed me sometimes.

"Fucking bite me," I growled as I slid the box up onto the top shelf. He laughed my comment off as he did with every other person that cussed him out.

"Ya know, Red, you got yer head on pretty straight for a kid."

"I'm not a goddamn kid," I said, walking over to the corner where I'd thrown my family picture.

"Ye're still a kid to me," Merle reasoned. "My 20's were my prime a long while ago... enjoy them while they last."

"I already am," I snipped sarcastically, giving him a fake smile. "Every little bit of 'em. What's not to love about your whole life crashing and burning before your eyes while the world tries to kill itself at the same time?"

"Well, me, I just sit back and watch the embers float on by," he drawled before grinning and leaning against the doorframe. My foot hovered over the crumpled picture.

"Well, the embers keep getting in my eyes." I lowered my foot onto the photo, squishing it into the ground. Merle, thankfully, didn't notice what I was doing. I brushed past him and walked out of the building, walking over to my dad's. I've had enough of Andrea constantly trying to get on my good side by being another level of nosy. I know he won't give a shit with what I have to say, but I have to rant to someone that won't crack jokes the whole time even if I might get beat for it.

I burst through the door of my dad's room. Frigid air blasted me in the face, making me shiver. The room was empty. I sat down in his cold leather chair and waited for him. A sort of uneasy feeling began to hit me as the minutes ticked by, my eyes continuously falling on the far corner with a wonky black curtain in it. I shook my head and turned my head to look outside the window; the sky had quickly become a black velvet, the buildings of Woodbury painted orange from the dancing flames of the bonfire outside. People cheered in the distance. I rolled my eyes at the noise. I never took part in the town's only two kinds of night festivities: either someone was fighting somebody else or someone was fighting an actual biter. I know for a fact some of these people are closeted psychos by the way they cheer at that shit. That's why I barely talk to anyone.

My dad suddenly entered the room, his body tensing once he noticed me sitting in the chair. I stood up, immediately radiating tenseness back to him.

"What do you want," he asked in irritation.

"Tell Andrea to stay the hell outta my room," I stated. He stared blankly at me for a few moments then walked right past me to what he actually came in here for. "She went through my stuff. She actually went through my pictures and left them everywhere."

"Was your door open?" He shoved the gun he'd picked up and loaded into his holster, his back turned to me. The question took me by surprise. He cut me off before I could even say anything. "She can go in there if she wants when it's open," he stated. "Free roaming grounds. You should know that." I shook my head in frustration.

"No," I snapped. "She went through my stuff! She can't do that, that's straight up invading my privacy. I think she might've even taken some of the pictures." He stayed silent, ignoring me like usual. The fire inside me grew larger at his lack of response, his pure lack of interest in his own daughter telling him some girl was snooping around in her room infuriating. "Just because you're sleeping with her doesn't mean she can creep around in my shit!" My dad swiveled around, storming over to me and slapping me across the face. I clutched my cheek, the skin now stinging sharply. I glanced down at my dad's hand. It was now resting on his gun. My eyes grew wide and I peered up at him in shock. It was like the flames outside were now dancing in his eyes.

"Keep running your mouth at me like that," he challenged. I didn't dare speak. He smirked at my silence, reveling in the power he held over me. "You should be getting back to your room, anyway, shouldn't you? It's getting late, darlin', you'll need the rest; tomorrow morning you'll be out by yourself on foot. I hope you remember how you and Merle got to where y'all were headed 'cause you're going back. I can tell when you pick up random shit and throw it in a bag." My stomach dropped.

"By myself? I can't do that, I don't know how... a-and there wasn't a list! Merle never had one," I whispered. My dad seized my arm, holding it tightly. I began to wither under his burning grip. He clicked his tongue at me in disappointment.

"Blaming your mistakes on someone else, now, are we? That's not how I taught you," he growled in my ear, pushing me forward towards the door. He swung it open and forced me down the hallway, shoving me outside. I stumbled out into the night. "All the excuses you come up with are pathetic," he hollered. I stared at the ground in embarrassment as the door slammed shut behind me. I cautiously peered up, looking around to see if anyone heard what he said. My eyes connected with Merle's who happened to be standing just a few feet away. He said nothing. I shifted my focus back down to the ground again and briskly walked across the street, pushing the door open to my building and leaving his worried yet understanding stare behind.