I'm With You ➝ Daryl Dixon

where are your shoes, rambo.

three.

She was running again, running so fast but feeling as though no matter how fast her legs were going and how much her thighs ached they were not pushing her any further away from the house in which she had bolted from. The screams of her name painfully echoed down the street she ran through, as she dodged the three walkers that now followed her every step.

The flashing memory of her Uncle's face plagued her senses. He pulled out a knife. There was a banging from the locked wooden bedroom door as her undead Aunt groaned for freedom and flesh. He came for her, swinging his blade around as her Aunt crashed through the door, face pale and eyes sunken in like caves.

Bolting up right in a sweat, perspiration was heavy on Layla's forehead as she tried her best to steady her breathing and wipe away the tears that had stained her hot cheeks.

"Layla, are you alright?" Amy asked in a whisper.

Layla nodded, "Just a nightmare."

"It's okay. I get them too."

What little moonlight that seeped in through the plastic camper van windows illuminated Amy's face just enough for Layla to make out her soft genuine smile.

After a couple more moments of silence Layla spoke again, "I'm gunna go for a walk, clear my mind."

"Fresh air will do you the world of good," Amy whispered back, "Just be careful, okay? Take your knife."

Layla nodded. She had been at the camp for around a week now, settling in quickly but still suffering every time she closed her eyes to get rest. Even though she was surrounded by people she grew closer and closer to every day, the feeling of safety was still absent.

Planning on a midnight stroll by the lake, she brought with her a change of clothes and after pulling on her chunky dirt ridden boots, lacing the front of them up quickly and quietly creeping out of the camper van, she was off.

A whistling came from atop of Dale's van. Layla looked up to spot her least favourite of the redneck boys, binoculars dangling confidently round his neck - despite it being dark out, she could easily see his gigantic smirk.

"Where ye think ye goin' princess?" Merle asked with a grin.

"A walk." Layla sighed. She knew he was high and she didn't feel like dealing with a methed out redneck. Not being particularly fond of him, high or not, she intended to ignore his question and continue walking.

"Well, where?" He asked again.

"I don't think that's any of your business."

"You sure about that?" Merle replied, jumping down from his spot on Dale's van, "Cause why on earth would a pretty little thing like you wanna be out here so late on your little lonesome. Now that just don't make sense, does it?"

"Like I said, I'm goin for a walk. I can't sleep." Layla gave him a snarl.

He got up in her face a little, giving her a passive aggressive, "Enjoy your walk."

Biting her tongue – to save blowing up at each other and waking everyone up - she left Merle and followed the path down to the Lake that she now knew well. After the two previous experiences she had down there you would assume she disliked it, yet most of her time was spent down there; scrubbing clothes with Carol, teaching Carl how to skim pebbles and showing Sophia and Morales' kids how to make their own fishing rods.

The moon was high and big in the sky, the light pollution so minimal that the sky was illuminated full of stars bright enough to bounce off the blue water and highlight every little ripple of movement on its surface.