I rose, as did the sun, swinging my legs over the side of my bed. I stared at the slash painted on my leg; I had taken my pants off in the middle of the night to free myself from the blood crusted denim confines. I sighed, limping over to the window and peering out of it. The sky was beautiful: orange, pink, and blue were painted above the ghastly world below it.

I could see my repulsive reflection in the window despite all the dirt and dust that covered it. The slash on my cheek was a deep pinkish red and my hair was a complete tangled mess, blood matting down certain parts of it. I searched my drawers for a brush, all of them seeming to be empty until I opened the last one. I grabbed the brush from inside and smoothed out the knots in my mangled red hair, almost ripping out a few chunks while I was at it. I changed into the last pair of clothes available in the open drawer: a pair of jeans that my dad had ripped and an army green t-shirt. It felt great to be in clean clothes for once. I placed the brush back in the drawer, my finger brushing over a piece of paper. I pulled it out with curiosity and read it.

'Aften, I deeply apologize for going through your pictures. I know how sensitive you are about them and how you like keeping them private. I put the ones I already took into a keepsake for you. If you would like to see it, it's behind the dresser. - Andrea'.

I shimmied the dresser forward about a half an inch and pulled a piece of cardboard out from behind it. I grinned, staring at pictures of Penny and I. I wondered how long it'd been back there as I wiped off some of the dust that'd collected on the surface. The door suddenly flew open. I stumbled back in surprise, dropping Andrea's collage. A man pointed a gun at me from outside the doorway, another one sauntering over to me to get up in my face.

"You sneaky bitch," he hissed in my face, looking me up and down. "You thought you could escape and go unnoticed," he wondered. He ran his finger over the cut on my cheek. I flinched at the touch, drawing back. "What happened? You cut yourself," the man snickered in a baby voice. Anger boiled deep inside my stomach. I glared at him and spit in his face. He slowly wiped it off, smirking. His hand seized my neck, squeezing hard. I started to claw at his hand, my nails drawing blood from how hard I scratched him. Panic set in as I tried to take a breath. The man in the doorway cocked his gun. The guy choking me held up a finger as a signal for him to lower it.

"We're gonna put you back where you belong, alright, and you're not gonna say a fucking word." He released me and I gasped for air, coughing. "Let's go." he snarled, grabbing the back of my neck and shoving me forward out into the hallway. The man with the gun followed me, ready to blow my brains out at any moment.

I was thrown back into the cold, dark room that I was held in before. The door slammed shut behind me, locking me in. I kicked it out of frustration. I quickly noticed another small rectangle window that had been behind me while I was in the corner the last time. Its small beam of light was the only light source available. I searched around on my hands and knees for something to stand on so I could look out of it. I was curious to what was on the other side. I ran my hands over the ground, running over what seemed to be a foot. I drew my hand back in fear.

"Aften," the thing huffed tiredly.

"Merle," I wondered, my heart racing. He groaned in response. I hugged him closely, letting out a shaky sigh as my heart eased. "Thank god."

"I'm alright, Red. I'm fine," Merle breathed loudly as he ran his hand over the top of my head. "Everythin's okay. I've got everythin' taken care of," he sputtered, taking a brief moment to cough. "He's gonna keep an eye out for ya."

"What are you talking about," I questioned him in confusion.

"They're gonna take care of you."

"What do you mean? You're getting out. You're gonna be by my side the whole time," I told him. He laughed at me. I knew he was out of it. I brought something else up. "You know what's on the other side of that door?"

"Why would I?" He shook his head tiredly.

"It's probably a hallway. You can run right out there and I can cover you," I insisted. Merle laughed again.

"There's no way in hell. You gotta be crazy to think I'm gonna run up outta here."

"Then I guess I'm fucking insane," I admitted, weakly standing up and limping over to the window. I rubbed it free of dirt with my sleeve, then jumped up to peer through the window. I could briefly see a few aquarium tanks stacked on top of each other in dim lighting. I jumped up again. What I fully caught a glimpse of caused my stomach to drop.

"See anythin'," Merle asked, annoyed with my loudness. I mumbled, barely audible. I stood on my tip-toes, my eyes suddenly fixing on the back of my dad's head. He sat in a leather chair a few feet away from the heavy door, two rows of aquarium tanks stacked on top of each other in front of him. They had all been filled with severed biter heads. My stomach churned. My jaw dropped in disbelief, vomit almost rushing straight out of my open mouth. I quickly closed it to prevent that from happening. "What's wrong," Merle questioned as my legs grew weak. I needed to sit down. I heard the door click. I jumped violently, my heart beginning to pound against my chest. The door swung open, the dark silhouette of my dad standing in front of us.