Negan's Daughter

| Chapter 34 | Debt

I laid limply on the cold cement floor wrapped in the thick metallic smell of blood. My body was too broken, too damaged to tilt my head to the side to spit up the wade of mucus stuck in the back of my throat. When the sound of footsteps approached I didn't bother moving. He would do what he wanted. There was no escaping. Everyone was dead here.

The door opened and Frank emerged. He smiled down at me while kneeling to examine me closer. With a cold hand, he tilted my head so I was focused only on him.

"Sleepy?" He asked. I didn't respond. He chuckled in satisfaction. "Thought so." He brought a hand to my forehead and felt it with a gentle touch. "Catching a fever." I blinked at the thought. He flicked his gaze down to me. "Withdrawal should be setting in soon, it's been two days since we ran out hasn't it?" His demeaning tone caused a fiery pit to simmer in my stomach. Flashes of how I wished I could hurt him played through my mind. He lifted my chin with his fingers and brought his face closer to mine.

"A pretty face like yours should smile more often," he commented with excited eyes. "Smile for me." I stared at him blankly. This was his favorite game. Without hesitation I smiled widely, the corners of my mouth shaking from the rare muscle movement. He grinned, satisfied. The smile set me off.

"Is this smile wide enough?" I pushed the corners of my mouth further. "Or will this one do?" I asked, ruining his game for him. He stopped grinning and released my chin. "You still haven't gotten it yet have you!?" He spat like venom. I stared at him, unafraid. "You are-"

"Feral." I interrupted leaving him stunned. "And someone has to pay." Although my voice was weak it wounded him like a bullet. Just as I expected he grabbed me by my hair and brought my face even closer to his, his hot breath brushing against my cold skin. I kept my gaze towards the ceiling. He could take everything from me, not that I had much left, but he couldn't break me. I wouldn't give him that. I had survived so much before him he didn't deserve to see me crumble. I lived through hell before him. I would not give up so easily. He brought me to my feet and pushed me towards the wall.

"I'm getting sick of taking care of you. You're nothing, you know that?" His voice was probative, he was trying to see how much he could affect me just by his tongue. I kept the skin of my cheek against the wall. Truth was I got under his skin more than he got under mine, and he knew it. This alone made him furious. Whatever he wanted from me he couldn't get as long as I remained intact. At my lack of response he stepped closer. "Where were you before me? Do you remember?" I shut my eyes. I had learned a few tricks to help me survive. Sleeping passed time. I could sleep for hours. The trick was to work myself up; pushups, running back and forth, and giving a small fight would exhaust me to the point I would sleep for days afterwards. To get past hunger and moments like these I had to drift. Whenever Frank came to tear at me until I was ready to give in I forced myself to think of somewhere better. The only memories that were pleasant in my mind however, were the ones with Carl. Forcing him out of my mind wasn't an option any more. If I wanted to survive I had to focus on how alive he made me feel. Every glance, soft touch, and whisper played through my mind a hundred times but with every day they seemed to get harder and harder to grasp onto. His voice wasn't as clear in my head anymore, and I couldn't remember what it felt like when I kissed him. No matter how hard I tried, time was winning in tearing down my safe haven.

"What happened to that fire? Did I extinguish it?" Frank continued. He grabbed me by the shoulder and pushed me back so I was pressed against the wall facing him. I tried to wander, to go back to the prison where I went for walks for Carl but I felt weak. Frank glared down at me and pushed my shirt down slightly, revealing a large bruise. "Does it still hurt? I think you need a new one." I closed my eyes, forcing my brain to bring up his face as hard as I could. Nothing. He was finally gone. Frank's presence was stronger than faded memories. He pushed his thumb over my bottom lip and leaned closer. Before I could open my eyes he placed a gentle kiss on them. I felt sick. Repulsion bubbled to the surface as I used all my strength to knee him in the groin. He hunched over and I used a hammer fist to force him to the ground. I flipped him onto his back with my foot and climbed on top of him. Like a wild animal, I began to pound him with my fists until blood clouded my vision and I felt rough hands pull me away. The back of my head hit the ground with a thud but I jumped back up, ready to continue beating him until I couldn't see his repulsive face again. He stared at me with a busted lip, swollen eye, and bloody nose.

"Tomorrow is your last day here bitch! I'm going to watch you beg for me to kill you while I let my man have you! Screw the deal! I want this whore dead!" He rushed forward and backhanded me. I fell to the side with a grunt. "Bring her back to jog her memory of who she was." Suddenly, one of the guards picked me up and forced me out of the room. He dragged down hall after hall until we reached a door with a picture taped to it. I stared at my family smiling back at me before the door swung open and they were gone again. The guard threw me in, slamming the door behind him and rushing off. I furrowed my brow. Once silence returned I moved my gaze slowly around the room. My mouth gaped as I met a familiar set of eyes, and noticed a noticeable birthmark through the darkness.

"Willow?"

Willow stared at me for the first hour I had returned the small dank room. I kept my breathing steady, eyes closed and set on remembering him. After a while, Willow finally summoned the courage to speak.

"I thought you were dead." I flicked my gaze towards her then turned to examine the few girls left in the room.

"Not that lucky," I rasped out. She furrowed her brow, mouth agape at my response. I exhaled slowly and ran a hand into my messy hair. "What happened with Casey?" I asked begrudgingly.Willow blinked, a blank expression on her face before the memory resurfaced.

"I don't know. They took her away." She answered. I nodded, a bitter taste in my mouth from the memory. Bringing myself to my feet I stepped closer to Willow then stopped. My brow furrowed. Her usually untouched clothes were gone, leaving her exposed and covered in bruises. My mouth gaped. She covered herself with her arms as tight as possible.

"When Casey died... he had to find someone else to hurt." Her voice was weak. I felt my chest tighten and the rage I had built up within my time here had come at full force. I calmed it, pulling off my thing zip up hoodie and wrapping it around her. She sniffled. I pushed a messed up strand of hair behind her ear and examined her closely, guilt bubbled in my stomach. This was my fault. If I had stood up, I could have killed him. It would have saved them at least some of their innocence. Instead, I hid in my mind. That wasn't who I was. I was a fighter. The only difference was that I fought to survive then... Willow tilted her head, as if reading my thoughts.

"You had no choice." She spoke up. I shook my head.

"There's always a choice." I rebutted. "I chose wrong." Willow furrowed her brow. I sat down in front of her with crossed legs. Silent set around us as she examined me with narrowed eyes.

"You would have died," She replied clearly.

"And Casey and Petyr would have lived, and we wouldn't have gone through what we have." I bit back my tongue and focused on the ground. The cold, angry person I was now was enough to scare anyone. "How long was I in that room," I asked, changing the subject.

"Five months," she answered through a strained voice. I raised my eyes to her in bewilderment. Noting my surprise, she shifted. "How long did you think you were there for?" I shook my head. I could hardly remember my time in there.

"Four weeks," I estimated. I placed a hand on my forehead and closed my eyes.

"What did he do to you?" She whispered. I laughed slightly, the sound completely strange to me. Willow turned her gaze to the floor as I exhaled slowly.

"He said tomorrow is my last day," I responded, ignoring her question. I raised my head and stared into her narrow eyes. Willow tensed up. A wide broken smile spread across my face. For the first time I had something to look forward to. I would be free.

"I guess that means I should tell you more about myself to pass the time." Willow responded.