Dedication

"I do want to live. I just don't want it to be an obligation. I just get tired of the nightmarish routine. Getting by everyday, just barely. I don't think I'm living, I'm just, uh, what's a good word? Surviving," I said finally. "I want to live enough till where I am experienced, to where it seems I lived a good life."

Arrie Hughes has been surviving through a world that she feels is already hell. Already questioning her faith, she couldn't begin to believe about the idea of the dead not staying dead. The dead rising up to eat the living. The fear of every breath she takes will be her last and the danger of losing people at any moment; she forces herself to stay away.
Arrie thinks of herself as a strong person, even though deep down she denies being afraid. She'll pull her weight around the camp, will try to at least do something productive in the group and promises herself not to cry. Although the last time she had cried, was when she realized her family was gone, no contact with them at all, not even a goodbye to them. She tries to train herself into being vague and a bit cold. Only because she does not want any one to see her past the walls she has made.
Until that's when a crossbow shooting, wearing an angel vest, redneck comes to intrigue her interest. She doesn't know if she could trust someone, until she realizes they both have something in common; the walls they both build up to keep other people out.

Note: I do not own any of AMC's The Walking Dead characters. I just wanted to simply write a fanfiction of Daryl Dixon.