The Walking Dead

Chapter Two

Once the lobby is somewhat clear (besides the few dozen people still trying to cram themselves through the stairwell door all at once) and the noise level reduces to a minimum of grunting and heavy breathing coming from the group of idiots who apparently have never heard of a single file line, I make my way down the half-lit corridor towards Rick's office. An erie silence coats the hallway like a thick blanket. I feel as though I'm in a horror movie, and at any moment something will pop out of the shadows. It takes me a moment to realize that I really am in a horror movie.This new world, constantly living in fear of what may be lurking behind you. Constantly running. Constantly hiding....
I reach the end of the hallway and lightly tap on the rotting wooden door.
"Come on in Cadence," Rick's voice calls from inside.
How did he know it was me?
I gently push open the door and step inside. The tiny office which I presume used to be a broom closet is crowded and smells strongly of mildew and cleaning chemicals. I sit down on what looks like a dining room chair that sits across from his desk. I don't question it..the furniture doesn't usually match. Before I can take a breath, let alone speak a single word, he has already interrupted me.
"I'm guessin' you're here to speak with me about the new living arrangements." He sighs, wiping a hand across his sweating forehead. "You would be correct about that." I say with little tone of voice. If I show even the slightest bit of attitude towards his decision, he will never reconsider.
"I knew I'd be seeing you soon enough. Daryl's a good man. You need someone lookin' after you."
"Why can't I just stay with you, Lori, and Carl?" I blurt. I am absolutely repulsed just thinking about living with that pig man. He has no manners! "Well that's what we originally thought was gonna happen, but with Lori pregnant and all, there just ain't room for all five of us in a two bedroom apartment. With you livin' with Daryl, you each get your own bedroom. You'll barely even see each other." A knot makes its way to the top of my throat, and if I speak at all, I know I'll burst into tears. All I can manage is a small nod, and I quickly stand up and exit the office. Once I'm a safe distance away, I drop to the floor and sob-not just about being forced to live with Daryl Dixon, also about missing my family, watching myself and others grow thinner and thinner as we gradually run out of food, living in fear because everyone knows I couldn't kill a walker on my own and if I was ever separated from this group....
Tears stream down my face and dribble onto the floor. I try and fail to wipe my face with my hands. My shirt is absolutely drenched. I curl into a ball in the middle of the hallway and even after there's no more tears to cry, I lie there completely still for probably another hour. After I gain enough strength to actually get up, I make my way to the small apartment that Daryl and I are now sharing. As I open the door, I am slapped in the face by the most horrifying stench-not the stench I'm used to-rotting flesh and sweat due to the lack of air conditioning-just something indescribably filthy. Daryl. I find him sitting on the kitchen counter picking his teeth with his fingernails. "You're disgusting." I grimace and enter one of the bedrooms, only to find that it's already caked in dirt. Unwashed clothes lie across the floor, so many that you can barely see the carpet. Granola bar and fruit snack wrappers are crumpled up on the nightstand, and worst of all, used tissues are strewn across the unmade bed. "That's my room, Princess." Daryl grunts from the kitchen. "Great." I frown and march into the bedroom across the hall. "Living here is gonna be hell." I mutter under my breath.