Disclaimer: I do not own anything. Except my OC.
To the person who finds this letter,
My name is…I don't see why you should know this but call me JJ. If you're reading this, it's because I'm probably dead and this letter is hanging onto my rotting corpse…or it might be lying there on the seat of my car. Don't try to steal it…it broke down. There's plenty of fuel left in it but you might find the need to repair it. With no repair it's, obviously, useless.
I'm writing this with hope to be remembered by someone. Or for someone to at least know I was there. That I was like them...fighting to survive but that I simply did not make it. I ran out of hope as I'm writing. I'm sitting here in my car on a suburban-looking street, doors are locked and it's a very quiet day, surprisingly.
I'm currently wondering if I should write to you about who I was or actually end this letter, more like a note, here and try to find a place to stay at for a couple of days. Big decisions in a dying world. There is no way I would survive…guess I really am a pessimist, huh?
I was here on vacation. A wedding. My aunt's wedding. Well, that was part of it. Three days for the whole wedding celebration and then I had planned at trip around the states. A good old trip around the United States of America. Something I hadn't done in almost fifteen years. I was excited and I had a good reason to be. I had just finished school, I had gotten a job, I was finally healthy and my family was happy, and that really mattered to me. My family. What they thought of what I wanted to do. They had been my support pillars for many years…well, obviously, they were my parents. But they had been so much more than just "my parents." They are my reason for wanting to live. The reason why I have been fighting for the past month. The reason why I was able to pull through. And here I was, about to give up. Give up on them.
The smiles they gave me before I left were still clear memory in my mind. I still remember the day I left in my car and them waving at my car. I could remember they smiles and my mom's tears through the window before I started my car. My dad leaning as I rolled the window down for him. Him smiling at me as he made sure to get there safe. I smiled, stroked his cheek than waved. And that was it.
For many years I hung unto dear life, scratching and clawing at my enemy that had invaded my body. It was a struggle every day to fight against something you had fought before. I had almost given up hope when it came back. I remember how I was laughing at myself sitting in that bed thinking, "Here we go ag-
Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of bones breaking. The sound itself was not unknown to her but dreaded. She did not dare to lift her head up as the pen fell with a thud on the floor of her car. She had frozen up. She felt the lump in her throat go down and her heart beat much faster than it did before. Her right hand immediately flew to grab her gun resting on the passenger seat as her left one slowly opened the car door. It felt as though her body flew out of the car to find its place steadily on the concrete. Her eyes scanned the area as she found herself looking for the noise that had her worried.
But the streets were empty. A few pieces of newspaper flying here and there, bodies lying around, empty bags, open doors to empty houses…nothing bizarre. Well, not in this new world. She took a few careful steps into the empty street, her eyes continuing to scan the area. She tried keeping her breathing as steady as she could while holding her gun, ready to aim if anything happened. She had to remember one thing. Four bullets. It was all she had left. She knew that technically she had three bullets left…the last one being for her she had decided. The thought of putting a bullet through her own dead made her body shudder in fear.
"You! There!" Thought interrupted but this time by the deep shaky voice of a man. She whipped her head around, her body following suit, and aimed at the man. He instinctively reached for his gun but then his eyes fell on the bandage on her arm. "You bit?"
"What?" She found herself asking. An angry sigh escaped the man's lips as he nodded towards her. "Are you bit?! The bandage on your arm, girl!"
Her eyes fell to the bandage on her arm. She shook her head as her eyes found their way back to the man's figure. "A guy tried to steal my car. I fought him for it."
"That man you talkin' about…he dead or alive when you fought him?" The man asked as JJ snorted at the question. This man did not believe her story.
"The man I'm talking about died by my own hands because he tried stealing my car!" She said as she slowly put the gun down. "Come on…I'm just a girl trying to survive…"
He looked at her, "What's your name, girl?"
"JJ. Nothing else." JJ found herself looking over the man's looks. He was African-American and taller than her. He was threatening from where she stood. He was definitely willing to defend himself even if it meant killing her. The silence was killing her, almost making her heart jumping out of her chest.
He smiled very slightly, "Well, JJ…today is your lucky day. If you get your things fast enough…you might have somewhere to sleep tonight."
She bit her lower lip, "Why should I trust you?"
"I haven't killed you." He answered back.
She looked at him then smiled as he did the same. She did not trust often but she knew when to trust. Except when in love. There was no place for it in this world. But she knew, somehow, she could trust this man. And if her instincts, god forbid, failed her then she didn't want to know. This was probably the only chance to survive she had. And she had to take it even if it meant she was to live only a little while longer. They walked slowly to her car. The man still had his weapon in his hand, which made her uneasy. She only had one bag left and that's all she could carry. She grabbed it and closed the trunk of the car then turned around to face the man.
"You never told me your name…" She mumbled as they walked down the street.
He smiled, "Morgan. Just Morgan."
This is my fourth Fanfic. All of my stories are unfinished but I am trying. I am. They're going slowly but surely are advancing. Lately my obsession is The Walking Dead. I'm not very good at writing I believe but I am looking to improve. I am now in a English College and I am trying to improve my english. And I hope that this story will be it. The one to help me improve.
I don't really know where this story will go but it will be a Daryl/OC story. Eventually. I plan on taking it slow but I do hope to post a chapter per WEEK if I'm not overwhelmed by homework. If they will be short or long chapters, I have no idea.
I really want to make this believable so this will be going slow, very slow. I do hope you enjoy it.
:) Please constructive comments only, no bashing! Reviews will make me go faster obviously :) xx