❝ NOBODY'S EVIL, THEY JUST DECIDE TO FORGET WHO THEY ARE ❞
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The girl mounted up the large, rusted walls, undaunted by what roamed on the other side. It was safer to stay within the dividers of the town, she knew, but she enjoyed the thrill of defying the rules. It gave her a rush that she couldn't find elsewhere. The sensation was only ephemeral. She did it mostly because she found the rustling of the trees and the cool wind to be serene. She sometimes needed a break from the apocalyptic drama.
Besides, due to her fortunate upbringing, she'd had the proper training. She'd learned from a former sheriff's deputy, Shane Walsh. He taught Vada everything she needed to know about keeping herself safe. They would go out into the woods often, with her mother's consent of course, and shoot at targets. She made use of her new-found abilities through years of practice.
However, when Enid forced her over the towering walls for the first time, she was reasonably apprehensive. It had taken days, possibly weeks of convincing, until she finally gave in.
She began to omit Enid from her daily trips, once she became comfortable enough, deciding she preferred to be alone. Throughout her twenty years, she realized she was more of an introvert than an extrovert. She spent the greater part of her days with her face buried in a book, alone in her room with only the words on a page and her musings. That's the way she liked it. She saw it as a get away from the stress that took place in Alexandria. Ironic enough that she felt more at ease alone in the forested areas, surrounded by the lurking dead, than in her own town.
Climbing itself had become an almost daily routine, making the job easier as time flew by. She could be up and over in less than thirty seconds, having it improbable for her father–or anybody else for that matter–to catch her. She couldn't dream of what he, or her sibling, Carl, may do if they discovered her evening reading sessions. Her brother wasn't the calmest of people.
She landed hard on her feet, the leaves crumbling beneath her as she strolled along. Normally she brought a book or sat alone with her inordinate amount of thoughts. The act of pursuing a novel under a tree amid the forest, a cool fall day brought a great sense of nostalgia. It took her back to the times she was young, around twelve, sitting in the playground for hours after school reading the classics. The apocalypse hit five years later, but she carried on the wherever the outbreak led her. The peripatetic nature of the apocalypse didn't allow her much alone time. Instead of reading as she desired to do, she was called upon to help with laundry and cooking. She'd always loved to cook – she'd taken on the task at a young age of thirteen.
When they finally reached Alexandria she found that a majority of her time was spent alone. Instead of a small, close-knit group of survivors they were now a whole town. She dropped laundry but continued to cook, as that was one of the only things she truly loved to do.
