(Pre-outbreak)

You lived across from Daryl Dixon; a small run down house just like yours at the end of the street.

He was two years older than you, graduated from school and now working as many hours as he could at some car repair shop. Whereas you are still in school, well on the days that you aren't beat up too badly to draw attention.

It was four years ago when your father began his beatings, the disgusting things he did to you. And it was the day after, that Daryl noticed.

You hadn't really spoken to the Dixon boys much before then, your father was friends with their father, but the boys seemed too intimidating to socialize with.

But Daryl knew who you were, and when he saw you limp outside the next day with a red welt on your arm and a black eye... He knew that you and him weren't that different.

"Ain't any way to treat a woman," Daryl had said to you once, on one of the nights you got together. "'specially ye daughter."