[A/N] Hey guys!

This here is a prequel to Bad Things Will Always Happen. Until episode 4 of The Walking Dead Season 2 comes out, I'll be focusing on this!

Follow 12-year-old Anne Marshall as she struggles to survive the beginning of the end.

I don't own The Walking Dead or any of its characters

I do own Anne Marshall

ENJOY!


THWACK!

I grunt as I hurtle to the ground, scraping my knee in the process. As soon as I hit the pavement, I hear laughter.

"Serves you right, freak!"

Pushing myself up, I gently feel my cheek, which is beginning to form a bruise from the hit. I then look up at my tormentors.

"Why?! Why are you doing this to me?! What have I ever done to you?!" I nearly scream.

One of them, a blonde boy aged thirteen, smirks. "Because you're nothing but a freak! You don't deserve to be around here! Because of you, we have to see your ugly face every day! We're doing the world a favor!"

I gingerly reach up and gently cover my right eye, which is already covered by my bangs and a dark blue bandana.

"Cyclops!" one of them taunts.

"Emo!" another jeers.

"Abomination!"

I bite my lip, holding back the tears.

One punches me again, and I spit out blood.

"Stop... just stop!" I choked out.

This only causes them to laugh even more. I look up at them and feel anger building up inside me. I clench my fists tightly. I then say something I never thought that I would say to them.

"SCREW YOU!"

The laughter ceases immediately. The one that had punched me earlier glares at me menacingly.

"What did you say?!"

I start backing away.

"Y-You heard me!" I stuttered before turning on my heel and making a break for it.

"Get the freak!" he yelled as they began chasing after me.

Panting, I run around a corner, passing several people as I desperately try to escape them. Looking over my shoulder, I can see them gaining on me.

Crap...

Adrenaline pumps through my legs as I run faster.

I duck around another corner and hide behind a bush, crouching down. My breath hitched as I heard their footsteps getting closer.

"Where'd she go?!" I heard a boy demand in a thick Southern drawl.

"I saw her go this way!" one yelled as they began running away from the bushes. As soon as they are out of sight, I sigh with relief and sink down to my knees.

It's another one of THOSE days...

I walk around, I get cornered by jackasses, and I get the crap beaten out of me...

This has been happening since Preschool...

It's all because of...

I feel a tear come to my eye, but I wipe it away.

I stand up and step out from behind the bush. Shoving my hands into my pockets, I begin to walk home...


"Hey, look! It's the 'Cyclops'!" I hear a girl exclaim as she stands with her posse.

A brunette smirks at me. "Where you goin', Cyclops? Back to your cave?"

The girls cackle. I feel another tear come to my eye as I try to ignore them.

I don't know what's worse... getting beaten up, or having to listen to this...

"Aw, is the wittle Cyclops gonna cry?" one of them asked, using a baby voice.

"Get lost, you ugly freak!"

"You don't belong here! You don't belong anywhere on this earth!"

"Do us a favor and go die in a pit!"

I clutch my head, shut my visible eye tightly, and grit my teeth. I then let my anger out once again.

"SHUT UP! JUST SHUT THE HELL UP!" I scream as hot tears run down my face.

I hear them gasp, but I'm not sticking around to hear what else they have to say.

I run down the street, ignoring more jeers and taunts from other neighborhood kids.


I barge through the front door to my house and slam it shut.

"Anne! What have I said about slamming doors?"

I mentally groan.

Here we go...

A brunette woman in her late twenties to early thirties gets off of the couch and glares at me.

"Where have you been?!"

I frown up at my mother. "I was beaten up!"

She shakes her head. "Tell me the truth, young lady."

I clench my fists. "I swear! I was! Look at the bruises!"

My mother crosses her arms. "You always say you were beaten up. The same excuse every day..."

She doesn't believe me?!

Of course she doesn't... she hasn't believed me ever...

Why doesn't she believe me?!

"I'm telling the truth, Mom!"

"That's enough lies, Anne! Go to your room!"

"But-!"

"NOW!"

Seething under my breath, I glare at her with my visible eye before I stomp upstairs. When I reach my room, I throw the door open, step inside, and slam it shut.

I stand there for a moment.

All is quiet.

Until...

"RAAAGGGHHH!"

I scream as I let out all the anger and frustration I felt all day. After the scream ended, I collapsed to my knees and began crying.

Why?!

Why won't they believe me?!

I head over to a mirror and look into it for a moment before I reach up and untie the bandanna.

As I pull it off, I brushed my bangs to the side and stared into the mirror. I could see a bruise forming on my cheek, as well as a few others. I see my eyes glimmering with tears. My left eye is a normal green color... but... my other eye...

It's red.

Blood red.

My eyes are differently colored...

And every kid in the town has labeled me a freak because of it.

They think I'm a freak... an outcast...

That is why I cover my right eye.

To try and avoid more ridicule.

But it never works.

It only adds fuel to the fire.

I beg my parents almost every day for help, but guess what?!

THEY NEVER LISTEN!

They both always think I'm lying and overreacting...

They... let this happen to me...

I sit down, hug my knees, and start to rock myself back and forth.

It's gonna be OK, Anne...

Tomorrow will be a better day...

Hopefully...