Losing Hope *EDITING*

Chapter 23; Claire Curvel

"I brought you some soap."

I shrieked, turning around as I tried to cover my freezing self with my hands as Glenn stood there with a container of soap. "Go away!" I yelled in embarrassment.

Glenn just chuckled, still holding out the bottle of soap to me. I snatched it from him, shooing him away with a hand motion. I bit down on my lip to stop my chattering teeth as Glenn only turned around and stayed. Idiot. I quickly washed up with the soap, stepping out of the water and looking down at my blue toes. Trying to wash up in this weather was not a good idea.

"Can you go get Maggie?" I asked him awkwardly, my teeth chattering with every word I spoke.

He only nodded his head before jogging off to the group. I wrapped my wet arms around my soaking wet body, shaking furiously from the cold. It felt good to have that blood off of me, but I'd much rather have to deal with the blood than frostbite. I sighed in relief as Maggie showed up, a couple of small washcloths in her hand.

"We don't have any towels, so these will have to do," She told me, handing me two small washcloths. I gave her a small smile in thanks, quickly getting to work on drying myself off. "I'll leave the clothes I found in the back of the station wagon here."

I nodded -Maggie setting the clothes down and heading back to the group. Once I was fully dried off, I pulled on the tight jeans, tying my belt that I previously had on with my knife in the sheath still, then the loose fitting tank top and the leather jacket that instantly warmed me up a bit. I tugged my boots on and tied my hair up into a messy bun.

Much better. I smiled halfheartedly as I walked from behind the stone wall that was covering me, seeing that Glenn left his shotgun leaning against it. Stupid boy. I chuckled, picking it up, and walking up to the group; trying my best to hide my limp as my leg felt like it was on fire.

Damned barb wire and swollen ankle.

I made my way back to the group, avoiding Hershel's stare at my leg. "Is your ankle swollen again?" He asked suddenly.

I nodded quickly, wanting to change the subject as several members of the group looked down at my leg. I held Glenn's shotgun out in front of me to grab -mentally cursing myself as I notice the blood from my leg start to sweep through my jeans.

"Where you bit?!" Daryl shouted.

I sighed,shaking my head. "I fell on the barbed fence back at the farm."

"What the hell Claire!"

I stared up angrily at Glenn: his outburst scaring me a bit, everyone else sharing concerned glances. "Don't yell at me," I sneered. "It's just little cuts. I wish you people would stop acting like I'm going to get myself killed!"

"Kid, you're always hurting yourself" Daryl exclaimed.

"Then don't worry about me!"

I turned around, throwing Glenn's shotgun on the ground loudly before stomping away furiously. I was fine. A few little cuts wasn't going to kill me. Hell I'm still alive and I'm still human. They shouldn't worry so much. There is no more kid stuff so getting physically hurt is kinda apart of that package. I don't know why they blow things so much out of proportion.

>>>>>

We all sat around the campfire quietly. It was an awkward silence. I don't know why everyone was on edge with what Rick said. It's just something we have to accept and they need to give him a little credit. He's trying as hard as he can. Being a leader of people who want to survive is hard. Without him, we'd all be dead.