Chapter 1

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The Struggle

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The phrase 'The struggle is real' was so over rated before now. I remember how running out of milk after you poured your cereal was a F.W.P. (first world problem).

Now a days, Ill be lucky enough to find a squirrel.

I cut through the vines blocking my path with my samurai sword.

I love my swords. Before my parents died they gave me these. My Dad was a scientist and my mom worked in the army.

They trained me. They knew this was going to happen.

Don't get me wrong. They tried to warn others. But seriously who would believe them.

They taught me how to use guns. Throw knifes. Shoot arrows and even make weapons.

I love archery and my knifes. Guns are too loud for me.

I make my out of the forest and onto the train tracks. This way all I have to do is walk straight to get to the neighborhoods. Then I can find some food. My stomach gargles in response.

I walk down the tracks with my bouncy curls running down my back. I was told many times I was pretty. But some people think I'm weird. I don't really fit in. I'm an Oreo. My dads white and my mom is black. Which makes me a mixed chick. I love the way I look. Too bad some people don't feel the same way. I look down at my white tank top with my black flexible and comfy black leggings with my plad long sleeve shirt tied around my waist and my black army boots.

My two long samurai swords are nicely secured behind my back in their cases. My belt holds my gun, bullets, and knives. I also keep a knife in my boot. Just in case.

Then there's my bow in my hand with my arrows tightly packed in their case. And my book bag holding other essentials in them.

So right now I'm gaining a lot of back strength.

The journey is long and tiring. I see a couple of walkers limping their way towards me but I quickly shoot them in the head with my arrows.

I always remember to take the arrows back. Even though I'm always making more weapons for Boredom's sake.

The sun starts to go down and I know right away that I need to find a place to camp out.

Luckily I find a tour bus abandoned on the side of the track. This means I'm close to town. Good.

I throw all my stuff onto the top of the bus and climb on. I use my plad shirt as a pillow and take the blanket out of my book bag.

Whether or not this is the safest I've ever felt sleeping. I don't think the walkers can find me up here. Plus their stupid nuts for brains can't climb anyway.

With that I quickly drift off to sleep.

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Author's Note:

Hi Lovelies!!

Did you miss me?

Probably not.

I've been wanting to write this story for a while. I'm a sucker for The Walking Dead. I also put my two favorite biases in here. Channing Tatum and Carter Reynolds.

This story is actually based on a dream.

Let me shut up.

bai cx

~xxTheRealBatgirlxx

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