𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐓 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐎𝐃𝐃𝐒. ᵀᴴᴱ ᵂᴬᴸᴷᴵᴺᴳ ᴰᴱᴬᴰ

CHAPTER ONE: THE BEGINNING

Set pre-season one prior to the apocalypse. 

"Alright, I'm heading to work," Leya Grimes announced, her voice carrying a sense of routine as she pulled her purse up over her shoulder. It was cheap and boring, just like the rest of her appearance ( at least in her opinion ). She wished she could afford fancier clothes and nicer things, but material items had to come second. Most of what she owned was hand-me-downs from her step-mom, Lori - or anything she could afford at the thrift store. 

Thankfully, Leya had learned to be okay with the fact she would never be a girl of high class. She had started working as early as possible so she could help her parents with their financial struggles. She knew her dad hated the fact she was part of it, but when she was seventeen she had decided she wasn't going to take it anymore. She couldn't stand by and watch her parents struggle without contributing in some way. So, she got a full time job downtown as a housekeeper at a retirement home. 

She pulled her auburn hair  into a messy bun, something she did out of habit. It was the most convenient way of doing it, hoping to hide the fact she had barely combed out her morning curls. It was too exhausting to get up early and do the full routine. Her hair was thin and it was easily greasy, but she would worry about that later. The bun would do for now. She was already running late enough as it was, she just wanted to get out the door.  

She held the door open mid-way as she began to step out of the small country house. She sighed, brushing a strand of fallen hair behind her ears, the morning breeze kissing her cheek as she turned to leave. She could hear her mother's voice from inside before she closed the door. 

"Okay, have a good day, hon. We'll see you later," Lori chimed, her words carrying a familiar warmth. Despite her best efforts, though, Leya could tell there was something going on by the tense strain in her mother's voice. She knew it was because she'd been fighting with her dad earlier that morning, the way they had been most of that week. Lately it had become increasingly more common to catch them arguing, even when they pretended not to as they lowered their voices into harsh whispers. 

She knew they didn't want her or her younger brother, Carl, to overhear their arguments, but it didn't seem to matter when there was so much tension in the house. He was twelve, and she was nineteen. They might not have known much, but they weren't stupid. They both knew something was up. 

Leya loved and adored both of her parents. She'd always been especially close to her dad, Rick, who was a cop, but she loved her mom just as much. Even if she knew in the back of her mind that Lori wasn't her biological mother, it didn't matter to her. She had known her since she was a young girl, and she was the only mother figure she could ever imagine having. She hated the idea of them hurting each other so much. She just wanted them to all get along, but that seemed to be easier said than done. She hated not being able to fix things. Even not knowing what was going on was agonizing for her. She was a natural problem solver. There was nothing worse to Leya than a lack of control. 

Thus, Leya was constantly conflicted. She wanted to help, but she knew there was only so much she could do without crossing into her parents personal boundaries. Sometimes they shut down when she tried to get involved, and she found it was best to not push them. She didn't want to seem disrespectful during her efforts to help, even if it was to benefit the whole family. 

So, she was glad she could at least work to have a distraction. Working was a nice way to escape the tension at home for eight hours a day, to dissociate. Sometimes she enjoyed getting lost in her daydreams while she worked, which was easy to do when she was alone by herself while cleaning the rooms of the residents.