you're 16. How you survived this long, who's to say, really? Negan would probably take credit, since he'd 'rescued' you from a horde. You were pretty sure you had that, but the past is past.

Negan protected you, sure, he'd made taken you in, as a daughter, to keep you away from other Saviors and the workers. you found it irritating.

you were glad he'd helped you, yeah, but you hated Negan. He saw you as his daughter, but you felt you were better off alone and just wanted to get out of here.

today, Carl Grimes had come to the Sanctuary to kill Negan. Now, Negan was showing him around the compound. Maybe Negan liked the kid, otherwise he'd already by dead.

you had been working on prying a piece of wood from the floor to use as a shank, somewhat, to kill the guard and take his gun. As previously stated, you wanted to leave.

the door creaked and shifted open, the rotten floorboards giving away the fact someone was here, and you looked up, naturally, to see Negan with some kid.

his brown shaggy hair mostly covered his eyepatch, but you could see it. He wore a sheriff's hat, which you could've sworn you recognized.

Carl shifted in his spot beside Negan, his one blue eye darting around the room, and it landed on you.

as Carl saw you, he felt a deep festering hatred in himself. Any friend of Negan's was an enemy of his.

your eyes locked onto the boy and Carl shifted nervously, noticing your gaze. Negan shifted his attention to you and he paced over, tilting his head in question, catching you on the act of making a weapon.*

"Now, I come in here to introduce you to my new friend Carl, and you're tearing up the floor?" Negan said, prodding at your behavior. Carl stiffened from behind Negan, his one eye narrowed as Negan called them friends.

Negan treated you like his kid. Which was better, but you still wanted to get out of here. Negan was a bad person, even if he wasn't bad to you.