Arrowhead ➳ Daryl Dixon

s e v e n t e e n

Only vaguely could a Presley remember the first time her father had taken her out for icecream. The ritual had started when she was about six years old. Every year for her birthday, they would drive into town and sit on the curb with a cone of ice cream. They would look at people and make up stories of their lives, whether they were married or divorced, cranky or happy. It was a simple thing, but she didn't realize how much she had truly missed it.

She knew that her father was still alive. He was too high strung and strong not to. His entire life had been devoted to survival. She often wondered what he would say about her when she was in a tough situation. "Could do better." or "good job, kid."

Presley was curled up on the bed, staring blankly at the walls. It'd been an entire week. An entire week of daily hell. Her body had been violated almost every day, always by the rough hands of the governor. She could only imagine the things her daddy would be saying right now. Get your little ass out of there!

"I can't, daddy." She murmured.Her entire body itched and her stomach twisted. She felt like throwing up. The governor hadn't taken her first time, but that didn't mean it hurt any less. Her mind and body were both wounded. She could take physical wounds- hell, she was running through the woods with two broken ribs just a few weeks ago... But she wasn't used to being emotionally unstable. All she wanted to do was lay down and cry.

Big girls don't cry. Her father would say. He had frowned upon any and all crying, even when she had only been a young child.

"Take off your clothes, Presley." The governor repeated for the second time. The girl seemed to be in her own little world. Her hard expression tore into the mattress before she looked at him. If looks could kill, the governor would have a knife piercing his heart a hundred times over. He watched, his eyes wild with need as the girl stood. She moved slowly, keeping her eyes down cast.

He had broken her, and yet, she didn't cry. Those big blues didn't even water. He was determined to see her shed a tear before he released her.

Suddenly, the fire was lit.

She struggled and she yelled, a line of incoherent curses running out of her mouth. She hit her hands against his chest and thrashed her legs around, but no matter how hard she fought, he won. He always won.

By the time he had left the room, she had pulled the blanket over her head and fallen asleep.

She refused to give him the satisfactory of her tears. Instead, she remained completely still. She counted her breaths and listened to her own heart beat, until she slipped into a rough sleep. Reality had consumed her dreams, altering them into nightmares.

- - -

Two more nights passed. The governor came in at about the same time every day, did the horrible deed and then left her to pick up the pieces. Who would have thought a single man could tear down her walls and make her crumple. I am strong. I will get through this. She chanted the words in her head that night, but she just couldn't quite force herself to believe it any more.

She didn't know how much longer all of this would last. Forever, perhaps. Forever her body would be touched by a man she loathed. Forever she would be kept from the sunlight, left to wither away in the dark space of her mind. The mere thought made her tremble.

It would be so much easier to just end it all now. It hadn't been the first time she had considered the treacherous thing, nor would it be the last.

When the governor made it to her bedroom, she was ready for him. She stood behind the door, ready for him to shut the door. She was weak, so she could only pray that her determination would pull through.

She could barely land a punch on the man. He grabbed her throat and slammed her against the wall. She cried out, wrapping her arms around herself when she stumbled. She gasped for air as the pain continued to explode from her chest.

"Stupid girl." He said, grabbing her shoulders and pinning her back against the wall. She looked up at him, and for the first time, tears glistened in her eyes. She refused to let him see, turning her head downwards.

"Just kill me." She whispered, her voice barely audible. "End it."

The man didn't say anything. He simply laughed, pulling away and allowing the girl to slump to the ground. "Pathetic. You beg for me to end your life rather than try and survive. Maybe you're not as strong as I thought, Presley Scott." He grabbed her arm and hauled her to her feet. He surprised her by dragging her to her feet. He yanked her clothes back on before hauling her out of the room.

"I'll give you a damn good reason to live." He muttered, mostly to himself. She stumbled to keep up with him, trying to pry his death grip off of her arm the entire way. She bit her tongue to hold back a whimper everytime he tugged her forward.

He crossed what seemed like the entire neighborhood until he came to a little house. A man stood outside the house, a rifle in hand. The governor released Presley and went to talk to the man. She knew better than to run. She wrapped her arms around herself, staring at the ground between her boots.

"Bring her out." She heard the governor say. Just moments later, a short blonde stepped out through the door, the guard in tail. Her hair was ruffled and her eyes were bloodshot, but Presley could see no wounds nor bruises on her. She dropped to her knees, opening her arms when the girl ran at her.

"Mika, Shh." She said softly, pressing the girl's face into her neck. The small child sobbed into her neck, leaving tear stains on the clean shirt.

"I want to go home, Presley..." She whined, sniffling as she pulled away. The governor reached for the small girl, but Presley tugged her away. Strength had come back to her muscles, and her blue eyes had hardened once again.

"What did you do to her?" She asked, her temper blazing. "What the fuck did you do to her?" She screamed, standing. She pulled the girl behind her, shielding the girl with her own body.

"There's that little stick of dynamite we love." The Governor coed. He crossed his arms. "We haven't touched her, Presley. But..."

She stiffened.

"If you continue to disobey, we will be forced to move from you to... Her."

"Don't touch her." She hissed. "If you touch her I swear I'll-."

"You'll what?" The governor laughed. "You're alone in this, you stupid girl. You're all alone here. Nobody even knows you're here, nobody is even looking for you. Nobody gives a damn that you're here, Presley."

Presley winced, but stood her ground. It's a lie. They're looking for Mika. Presley's expression remained hard.

"Now you behave, girl... Or I'll turn you out to my men." He said, and then glanced at the girl. "Or maybe her..."

Before Presley could even register the words, the guard wrenched Mika away from her. "No!" She screamed, but the Governor stopped her from getting to the girl. Mika screamed and cried as she was carried into the small house. Presley fought against the iron grip of the governor, so hard that her muscles began to tremble and her breath came out in ragged huffs.

"Please leave her alone." She begged, dropping to her knees. His hands recoiled from her body. Her eyes didn't move from the door. "I'll do whatever you want- just let her go."

"There's a good girl." The governor said, pulling the defeated girl to her feet. "See? You don't wanna die just yet. You have an entire show to watch yet."