Don't Leave Me -DISCONTINUED/READ NEWEST CHAPTER-

Feed Me to the Dead

The doctor took one look at my arm and declared it broken. 

Thanks. But Negan already told me that. I need you to fix it. Not declare it to the world. 

They didn't have the proper materials for a cast, so he improvised with a black brace that was found. It was a little large, meant to fit an adult so the doctor improvised with stuffing it with some cotton. I'm not sure how that's supposed to heal my arm, but I shrug it off. 

Per Negan's request, I'm not covering my face up. Everybody stares at me everywhere I go. 

And it infuriates Peter. 

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Light floods into the closet and I put my arm up to shield my eyes from the assault. 

A hand grabs my wrist and yanks me out of the closet. 

Through sleepy eyes, I see Peter dragging me towards the door. He reeks of alcohol. 

I sober up quickly, starting to yank on my arm. 

"Let me go!" I cry, flailing around. 

"Shut up!" Peter back hands me and I fall. He then grabs a handful of the back of my shirt and the waistband of my pants, dragging me out the room and down the hallway. 

I start to count to try and even my breathing, waiting to see if I could locate help. 

It was really early in the morning, the sun just beginning to rise. Barely anyone was up. 

Peter pushes open the door outside with his shoulder. 

I hadn't really been outside since I've been here. 

There are multiple gates, walker traps and walkers littering the outside. The walkers are trapped on chains, linked to the fence or stuck on the traps. 

"Peter!?" I question. "Pa?" 

"Shut yer mouth!" Peter hauls me down the steps and we get closer to the walkers. 

And I had no doubt that he was going to kill me. 

"Stop!" I start to scream, squirming and trying to get away. 

Peter drags me closer and closer to a male walker, rotting, struggling against the chains that keep him captive on a fence. 

Peter holds me up and I'm a few inches away from the walker's face. The walker gets a hold of my jacket and Peter lets me go, darting off to leave me to die. 

I'm pushing against his arms, praying that someone saw me and wishing that I had my weapon. I shove my brace into his mouth to stop him but it cracks and I pull it away before he can scrape my skin. 

The head gets closer and closer to my shoulder and just as his teeth close around it, a gunshot goes off and I'm dropped to the ground. 

My head hits the concrete and then everything is fuzzy. 

I don't recognize the man in front of my face, screaming at me. 

Why are you screaming? My head hurts. 

Bite?