"She was like a new light. A new beginning. A new end." - Rick Grimes.
This story is about Bella Sinclair and her journey through the new world of the dead. A story of hope, of justice, of family and most importantly, of love. It focuses on a simil...
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(I do not own the characters or storyline connected to the original TWD comic or series. I do, however, own Bella Sinclair and her story. Any attempts of plagiarism will be reported.)
This is my story.
From the day I was born, things were a challenge. My father was a borderline alcoholic; he never loved me the way a father should love their child, and he certainly never loved my mother the way a husband should love their wife.
I was brought up to believe in God, to keep faith close to my heart, but it was never something that felt natural to me. My mother believed that there was someone watching us from above the clouds, amongst the heavens, and she wanted me to believe the same. I loved her more than anything in the entire world. She was my whole life, until she left it when I was only eleven years old. When I say my father did not love my mother the way a husband should love their wife, I mean the only care he had was for himself, and anyone who went against that self-serving drive would be made to regret it. Too many times I came home from school to see my mother standing in the bathroom, her mind drifting far away, as she stared at the marks darkening on her body. After my mothers passing, I soon became the main punching bag, and I will forever have the scars stained on my body and mind. The memories of watching my mother stand in front of the bathroom mirror hit me like never before when I looked up to see myself in her place.
I wasn't alone though, I had a brother. He was nine years older than me and we had always been incredibly close. We relied on one another, but most of all, we knew each other better than we really knew ourselves. Which is why I had told him to leave a few months after our mothers passing, because I saw too much of our father in him. The only chance he had of following a decent road was to be far away from this one, and one day, he left and I never heard from him again.
As the years went on, things only got worse and I was the only one left to suffer from him. So when I finally turned sixteen, I packed up and left... never looking back. It was impulsive, and to this day I truly don't know how I got away because I had never seen myself leaving. I thought the same fate of my mother was waiting for me, but I made it. I didn't have much, just some clothes and loose cash. A few weeks down the line, I met a guy that was out searching for more recruits to a martial arts training centre. He took me back to his boss and I pitched my situation as best as I could to him. I was taken in by them, and a year later I had earned my place alongside them, training other protégés. I earned a decent wage that year, and if it wasn't for either of them I don't know where I would be, but I knew I had to keep moving, I had to keep the ball rolling, and keep myself safe. That's when I decided to join the army. I trained for three years, went straight to a Second Lieutenant rank for two, then got promoted to Lieutenant for another three years. Which got me to the age of twenty five.
You'll notice how I stopped when I got to the age of twenty five I'm guessing? Well, this is when it happened. When the dead stopped being dead. I mean it was like a horror movie to begin with, you just couldn't believe it; your heart was in your mouth but it couldn't possibly be real, right? At the beginning, everyone assumed it was an outbreak of some sort of virus that made people crazed, which of course led people to believe a cure wasn't far away. If only that were true. Civilians were told to stay at home and we, the Army, were distributed around the country. Soon enough evacuations were put into place but by then it was too late, the dead had taken over and it was every man for themselves. You had to fight to stay alive.
