1 || i delivered pizzas

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a/n: for those new to reader insert stories, there are a lot of terms you will see throughout the story. these terms are in the story's description to use as a reference. enjoy the story, and don't forget to comment and vote if you liked it! thank you for reading! -Holly

When the world was given to the dead, you were at home with your family.

Your mother died instantly. She was eaten alive while trying to save the rest of your family.

Your father died saving your little sister. She almost fell off the roof of a building in Atlanta. He pushed her back on and fell down.

Your little sister, Caroline, died in your arms. You didn't have enough food. Starvation got to her before it killed you. She was nine. You cried over her and then left her lifeless body in the forest.

Funny how these things work, isn't it? Everyone you loved was dead, and you still stood. You contemplated suicide for a while. I mean, who wants to live like this? But you couldn't pull the trigger when you remembered Caroline crying before she died, saying, "We're going to be fine, (Y/N). The dead can't take our hope."

But they sure took yours.

You wandered in Atlanta for countless days, searching for anything-- people, food, medicine to dull your headache that had been there since your little sister cried out in pain from her hunger. But nothing was there to help you and no one came to save you.

The images flashed before you. Your mom crying out in pain as the dead bit into her flesh. Your father, screaming, "Caroline, no!" just before he fell to his death. Your little sister, going to sleep and never waking up.

You holed up in a building. You were dehydrated, starving, and hopeless. You were just as good as one of those dead ones.

"Hey! There's someone in here! I hear breathing, I think!" a man shouted from outside. You heard voices from more people, mumbling indistinct things.

Footsteps came towards you, and you hoped they killed you before the rest of the world did.

"Hey, you," the first voice said quietly. "Are you dead?"

"No," you answered, slowly opening your eyes. "Dying, maybe, but not dead yet."

The man nodded, looking at his friends. There were three more of them. The first man was an Asian guy about your age. Another was a big guy with dark skin. The other two were a guy who looked like he could kill you with a toothpick and a guy with clear blue eyes who looked kind.

"You gonna kill me?" you asked hopefully. "If so, make it quick."

"We're not here to kill you," one of the second voices, the man with blue eyes, said. The man was a cop, judging by his uniform.

"Then give me some water," you mumbled, reaching your hand out. The Asian man grinned a little, causing his dark eyes to brighten. He handed you a bottle of water.

You drank it all almost instantly.

"Are you bit?" he asked.

"No," you answered quietly.

"I'm Rick Grimes," said the cop. He pointed at the first man, and the others as he announced their names. "Glenn, Daryl, T-Dog."

Daryl was the toothpick-killer, Glenn was the friendly Asian man who gave you water, and T-Dog was the bigger guy.

"(Y/N)," you told him. "Thanks for the water."

"You're welcome," Glenn said. "Do you need help?"

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