Bowie Dixon is the nine year old daughter of Daryl Dixon, and yet his complete opposite. She's a sweet girl, just looking for someone to guide her to a better headspace. After losing her mom exactly one year before the dead started to walk the earth...
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Someday, I wish to be an astronaut. Not 'cause I wanna do all the science stuff that comes with it, just 'cause I wanna go to space. I wanna build a house there an' stuff, have a pet alien an' have a star that lights up my bedroom instead of a lamp. An' the Earth will be my moon, 'cause i'll be on the real moon. I wanna be alone there, too. I don't want anyone there with me, 'cause people suck a little. I decided I actually feel better when i'm alone. I ain't a burden to myself like i'm a burden to everyone else. Dad can come an' see me up on the moon if he wants me to, every once in a while an' all that stuff. I'll never run outta food, either, not for a long time, as I did hear the moon is made outta cheese. I think if i'm on the moon then allergies won't count none, and it'll be able to have cheese.
Right now, though, I ain't goin' to the moon none. I'm goin' to the farm that Rick an' everyone else is on. Where Carl is gettin' well. Where T-Dog is gettin' better, too. Where i'm gonna meet a whole lotta new people, too, I think. I wonder if the people on the farm will like me some, even though I ain't too sure. Maybe if I make a good impression or somethin'. Maybe if I don't chat their ears off, or maybe if I make myself seem real funny or somethin'. I ain't figured it out, yet. I will, though. I'll figure it out eventually.
I'm sat in the RV, right in the corner anyway from everyone. I got changed outta my pajamas not too long ago, an' now i'm wearin' a white t-shirt with my blue overalls, an' my usual red boots that dad swears are wellies, but they ain't in my eyes. My bare knees are pulled up to my chest, an' my eyes are located on my boots. I don't wanna look up at Carol, none. I still feel bad. I still feel so bad that it's makin' my heart actually hurt. Not like sad hurt, like a real, painful hurt that I can't get rid of. I feel responsible, I think.
I feel responsible that Sophia ain't here, an' I am. I feel responsible that she's still missin'. I feel responsible for Carol's big sadness. I feel responsible for the tears in her eyes. I feel bad, too. I feel so bad. I wish my dad hadn't gotten rid of his truck, so I could ride with him instead. That way, I wouldn't have to hear her sniffles that I'm responsible for, 'cause I let Sophia go away.
