The next morning, I'm sitting around the firepit poking around at some scrambled eggs that I ain't really gonna eat. Lori and Carol are talking about cooking a great big dinner for us all to eat together tonight- Hershel's family and all. That sounds like a nice idea, but it makes me feel anxious, too. 

Carol and Lori think I can't hear them. I know that because, just a few minutes ago, they were muttering to each other about how Daryl's not doing a great job keeping an eye on her and she hasn't eaten barely anything and he doesn't even care. 

These folks think my dad's bad at being my dad. It ain't his fault, though. I ain't exactly an easy kid. I pretended I couldn't hear Lori and Carol, anyway. 

Soon enough, though, Rick comes walking over with a big, old map he got from Hershel. He lays it out across the hood of a car and a few of the adults gather around it, including Andrea, Shane, and T-Dog. Dad comes walking out of our tent, too, putting on a shirt over his tank top. 

"Alright, everyone's getting new search grids today," Rick announces to everyone. 

I'm listening in because I know my dad's going out there on his own while everyone else is going in pairs. My dad can take care of himself, but it makes me nervous, knowing he's out there on his own. So I gotta listen and at least know where he's headed. So that if he gets hurt or something bad happens, I can go find him. 

That's my plan if he says, No, June. You're stayin' here, when I ask if I can come with him.

"If she made it as far as the farmhouse Daryl found, she might've gone further east than we've been so far," Rick's explaining. I'm standing between T-Dog and my dad, standing on the tips of my toes in order to see the map clearly. 

"I'd like to help," a boy interjects. He's Beth's boyfriend. She told me about him. His name's Jimmy. I saw them kiss, too, which is gross. Dad used to joke that I ain't allowed to get a boyfriend until I'm thirty. I bet he'd let me once I got into high school, though. Just as long as the boy I chose ain't a jerk. Anyway, Jimmy goes on saying, "I know the area pretty well and stuff."

"Hershel's ok with this?" Rick asks him.

Jimmy hesitates for a moment before answering with, "Yeah. Yeah. He said I should ask you."

"Well, alright then. Thanks," Rick says, patting Jimmy's shoulder. 

As soon as Rick's done talking to Jimmy, he looks back to the map like he's about to do some more explaining, but Shane interrupts before he can. "Nothin' 'bout what Daryl found screams Sophia to me. Anyone could've been holed up in that farmhouse," he says, sitting on the inside of the car.

Shane's been acting way different. His hair is just gone, if I haven't already mentioned that odd fact that's taking a while to get used to. Plus, he's just angry more. He used to be nice to Carl and I, but now it seems like he hates each and every person here. I knew he didn't like Merle and Dad too much, but now he doesn't seem to like me either. Don't know what happened to him. 

"But it coulda' been Sophia. Worth checkin'," I say bravely. Talking in big groups of adults who know what they're talking about sometimes makes me nervous. 

"Whoever slept in that cupboard was no bigger than yay-high," Dad says, holding his hand just a few inches above my head. Sophia was a bit taller than me, but she's pretty small for a twelve-year-old, I think. 

"It's a good lead," Andrea chimes in. 

"Maybe we'll pick up her trail again," Rick suggests.

"No maybe about it," Dad insists. He starts gesturing around the map. "I'mma borrow a horse, head up to this ridge right here, take a bird's eye view of the whole grid. If she's up there, I'll spot her," he explains.

"Good idea," T-Dog says, nodding his head. 

"Can I help?" I ask, raising my eyebrows up at Dad. 

"No," he says, slinging his crossbow over his shoulder. He starts walking off without another word, but I follow him 'cause I know where he's going. He's going to the stables. 

"Dad, I can help you. I know I can. I want to," I say, quickening my steps to try and catch up with him. He's walking off like he can't hear a single word I'm saying. "Dad, I don't like you goin' off on your own," I admit to him. 

Dad scoffs loud enough for me to hear it good. "And you think you bein' out there with me is gonna make it safer?" he asks like it's all funny. 

"I can help. There's a reason everyone else is goin' in pairs," I reason. Dad doesn't seem to care about himself very much. But he's gotta. He's gotta because doesn't he know that he's my dad? That he's gotta stay alive and be my dad?

"June, bringin' you out there would only be another person for me to look after," Dad says. We reach the stables and he gets a saddle. Saddles are much heavier than you'd expect, by the way. 

"You don't gotta look after me," I insist. He ignored me, putting the saddle on one of the horses. Beth told me one of these horses is called Nervous Nelly, but I can't remember which one. I hope it ain't the one he's picking out. "Dad," I say. 

"Ya look like a fool walkin' 'round wearin' that. Know that?" Dad asks me, gesturing to my outfit. The same clothes I was wearing yesterday. The same clothes he said made me look kick-ass, but only because of the shirt. 

I cross my arms, furrowing my eyebrows. "Lori and Carol think you ain't good at lookin' after me. I heard 'em talkin' 'bout it this mornin'," I tell him. I know right away, I shouldn't have said that. It was mean. It was rude. But he hurt my feelings, so I felt like hurting his. That's a stupid way to go about things, though. Makes me no better than him. 

"Yeah, well, neither a' their kids are doin' so hot right now either," Dad mutters. That's even more rude to say than what I just told him. 

"Dad," I say again. 

"No, Juniper. Go. Now," Dad tells me. 

"But Dad-"

Dad turns to look at me so fast that it makes me flinch. "You wanna fuckin' test me right now, Juniper? I'm goin' out there to find a little girl, not lose another one. Go back. Now," Dad growls, his voice tense and low in warning. 

I want to tell him that I'm just trying to help, that I love him and I don't want him to get hurt, that I wanna find Sophia, that I just wanna be with him. But I don't tell him any of that. I look down at my stupid, ugly cowboy boots that make me look like a fool and start walking back to the farmhouse. 

When I get to the farmhouse, I sit on the porch steps and start pulling at the grass. I used to do this at recess sometimes if no one would let me play with 'em. I'd pull at the grass and sometimes, if it was the right season, I'd make dandelion chains. They always fell apart, though, because dandelion chains are another thing I'm bad at. 

I'm bad at lots of things. I'm bad at math and reading and dandelion chains, and I'm bad at eating and helping and making my dad happy. I'm bad at picking clothes that don't make me look like a stupid little toddler. I'm bad at-

"Now, what'd that grass do to you?" a gentle voice asks in a joking tone. I look up above me and see Hershel standing at the top of the porch steps. 

"Sorry," I murmur. He probably doesn't want me tearing up his nice, green grass. 

"Oh, that's alright. Grass grows back in no time," Hershel tells me. He sits down on the step beside me. "Are you alright?" he asks. I only shrug. I don't know if I should tell Hershel about all the things that are bothering me. My dad might get mad at me. "Beth told me about you. She said you're a very sweet girl with great taste in fashion," Hershel says, nudging my arm with his elbow. 

I can't help but smile a little at that. "My dad says I look like a fool," I say quietly, in a tone that makes it sound like it's funny, even though it really just hurts my chest.

"Your dad is that man with the crossbow, am I right?" Hershel asks. I nod. Yes, my dad's the one who yells a lot and holds his crossbow instead of his daughter. "Sounds to me like he's the fool. One day, he'll come to miss seeing you wearing pink tutus and Disney boots. I sure miss when Beth was at that age."

"Well, maybe you can tell him that. He don't ever listen to me," I murmur. 

"He doesn't ever listen to you?" Hershel asks with a questioning tone. I'm not looking at him right now, but I bet he's raising his eyebrows.

"Not really. I try, but I don't think he cares all that much," I say, shrugging my shoulders.

Hershel is quiet for a short moment. "As I father of two daughters myself, I can assure you, he does. He cares more than you can imagine. Some just aren't able to show it as easily as others," he eventually tells me. 

This Hershel guy, he seems wise, like Dale. But I'm not so sure I believe what he's saying. He doesn't know my dad. He doesn't know what my dad's like or how my dad thinks. And he doesn't know much about me, either. He doesn't know how bad I am at everything. He doesn't know how much trouble I cause. He doesn't know how annoying I am.  

"How do I get him to show it, then?" I ask, trying not to be frustrated. 

"Persistence. Sometimes you've just got to make people listen," Hershel tells me. 

I gotta make my daddy listen. I gotta make him. 

"Thank you, sir," I say, hopping up off the porch steps with a brand new idea. 

"Of course," Hershel says, giving me a smile. I see Maggie standing in the window, smiling a little. Makes me wonder if she told him to go out there and talk to me. Either way, I don't care. 'Cause I've got a brand new idea. 

While Hershel goes back inside, I start running for my and Dad's tent. When I get there, I start digging around in his motorcycle bag, which is something I am never, ever supposed to do. But I gotta keep myself safe, and I know he's got weapons in here. Before I can find a knife in my dad's motorcycle, I find his old wallet, which is weird because I don't know what the heck he needs a wallet for. 

Anyway, I keep looking and I find a pocket knife and even a small pistol. I'm too nervous to take the pistol because Dad would get so, so mad if he caught me with that. I'm not supposed to touch any guns if he ain't right there beside me, telling me what and what not to do. And that's not one of those dumb rules that don't really matter like don't change the channel on the TV without asking first. It's a real important rule that he'll get actually, really, super duper mad about. It's a rule that I'll get a spankin' for not following. 

Once I've got this pocket knife, I start trekking off to where I know my dad went. I gotta be persistent. That was a vocabulary word in fourth grade, I think. It means to keep trying no matter what, no matter how hard it is. So I'm gonna be persistent. 

I'm gonna find my dad and I'm gonna make him listen. 

It's pretty easy to spot a horse's tracks, which is good news. So I start following along the tracks. Lucky my dad taught me to track. Or else I'd be lost right now. 

I've been walking for about twenty minutes when I finally, finally hear something moving not too far ahead of me. I stick my back up against a tree, hiding myself. I listen close. Footsteps, and then a quiet whoa. 

That's my dad's voice. I know it is. 

I get out from behind my tree and start going towards where I heard his voice. "Dad," I call out, just as I spot him tying the horse to the tree.

His head snaps towards me. His eyes are wide and angry and it makes me get this awful, terrified feeling in my gut. Maybe Hershel was wrong. I don't gotta be persistent. I gotta shut up and listen to my dad so I don't get hit. 

"What the fuck are you doin' out here, Juniper Jo Dixon?" Dad asks me. He's not yelling because he knows better than to yell out here in the woods, where walkers could be listening. But his voice is still so incredibly angry that I have to take a deep breath in order to calm my racing heart. He marches forward and I jump when he grabs onto my shirt, pulling me closer to him. His furious eyes stare into mine. "I told you to stay at the fuckin' farm."

"I- I'm just- I talked to-" I can't even make up my mind on what I want to say. 

"I'on give a shit who the hell you talked to! I said stay at the goddamn farm!" Dad says loudly, almost shouting. 

"I wanted to help!" I insist.

"You know better than this, Juniper. I fuckin' know you do. I oughta smack you for this shit," Dad grumbles, pressing his fingers into his eyes. 

I can't control what I do next. I back away from him, my heart racing in my chest. "No, Dad. No. Please don't," I say, trying not to let myself cry. I'm cowering away from him like a baby. Like the wimp I am. And Dad's standing just a few feet from me, staring. I can't tell what he's thinking. I can't tell if he's gonna hit me for this. I want to go home. I want to go home so bad. "I'm sorry, Daddy. I'm sorry. I just wanted- I wanted you to-"

I stop mid-sentence because my eyes just caught onto something that I can't hardly believe. We're standing at the top of a small hill, and at the bottom of it is a river. And across that little river, I can see Sophia's doll sitting there on the shore.

Before I can even think about what I'm doing, I bolt down the hill and across the water. Before my dad can run after me, he's gotta finish tying up that horse. So I get across way before him. I grab the doll, holding it up high. 

"Dad, look! Look! It's Sophia's! Sophia's doll is here!" I shout at him, waving the doll high above my head. 

"June-!" I hear my dad shout back at me just before my hair is grabbed from behind me. 

I'm pulled to the ground, and now I can hear it all. I can hear the growling and the snarling. The walker- it's a man, one about three times my size- is sitting on top of me, and I'm screaming at the top of my lungs without even meaning to. I'm pushing it off of me with all my strength, but I'm weak. I'm weak and it's face is getting closer to mine. It wants to rip the skin off my cheeks and kill me right here and now. 

"Daddy! Help! Daddy!" I'm screaming, all panicked. I can hear splashing. I can hear yelling. But it's all overpowered by the snarling just inches from my face. "Daddy!"

Another splash, and then a bolt goes through the walker's head. I scramble out from underneath it, and my cheeks are wet with tears. I'm struggling to catch my breath. I look up and see Dad standing in the river. His clothes are wet and he's leaning his weight on only one leg. The other looks wrong. Don't know how or why. 

"Dad," I breathe out, my eyes wide. 

"You- you're not bit?" Dad asks quickly, catching his own breath. 

"It didn't get me," I tell him, wiping my cheeks with the fabric on my shoulders. 

Dad lets out a big, tired sigh of relief and backs himself up to the other side of the river. He sits down on the shore, closing his eyes. He's got one leg bent and the other held straight out in front of him. He's taking deep breaths and his face is contorted. 

"Dad," I say again, my voice shaking. I don't know why I'm saying it. I just am. 

"Jesus Christ, Juniper. This is why I didn't want you comin' out here," Dad grumbles, pressing his fingers into his eyes. I grab Sophia's doll and start making my way over to his side of the river, looking down at my feet, all ashamed. "Fucked up my leg," he says. 

I sit down next to him and pull my knees up to my chest, hiding my face in my knees. I want him to tell me that he loves me, and that it's ok, and that we're both ok, and that he's so happy I'm alright. But he doesn't say any of that and I don't tell him that I want him to say it. 

"Think I dislocated it," Dad murmurs, looking down at his leg. It looks weird, his leg. "Son of a bitch," he mutters in pain. He's got dirt and water all over him now, and his leg is hurt, and it's all my fault. 

"I'm sorry, Dad. I didn't mean to- I didn't- I don't know," I whisper. 

"Let's go back. Tell 'em 'bout the doll. They can keep lookin'," Dad says, his voice strained. He grunts in pain as he pushes himself up off the ground. I get up, too, grabbing his arm to help him up. We look back up the small hill, and that horse- oh, gosh, the horse is gone. "God damnit!" Dad shouts, making me flinch. 

"We gotta walk?" I ask carefully. 

"What the fuck d'you think?" Dad asks, his tone harsh. He's right. I know the answer. Horse is gone, so we gotta walk. Stupid. I was stupid to even ask. "Help me up this damn hill," Dad says. 

So I do what he says and climb myself up the hill. When I get up there, I make sure my boots have got a good grip on the ground, and then I reach my arm down to my dad. He grabs onto my wrist and holds it tight as he starts dragging himself up the hill. He's grunting and groaning in pain with every other step he takes. I bet it hurts really, really bad. 

"I'm sorry, Dad. I'm really sorry," I tell him, helping him up the last stretch of the hill. 

"Just-" Dad sighs, letting go of my wrist and leaning his arm on a tree instead. "Just be quiet, would ya?" he grumbles. 

And so I be quiet. In fact, I'm quiet for the whole rest of the walk. While Dad leads the way, limping along with his dislocated knee that I made him dislocate, I trail a few feet behind him with my head hung low. I'm stupid. I'm so stupid. I should have just stayed out of the way. It would've been better that way. 

Everything would be better for Dad if I weren't here. Everything would be better if were gone, like Merle. Merle could've handled himself and Dad would be just fine right now. I bet Dad wishes Merle were here instead of me. I would. 

I don't know how my dad is able to find his way back so easily, but he does. I bet he just really wants to get back there and get his leg fixed and get all cleaned up. He looks a little like a walker himself, right now. He's got dirt all over him and he's definitely walking like a walker would, with his leg all messed up. 

After a long while, I think we've finally made it to the farm. Dad's way ahead of me now. I've been creating more and more distance between us as we walked because being next to him was making me feel anxious. I think he hates me right now. I don't blame him, but it's still hard. It's still hard to think about and to know. My dad hates me right now. 

Dad's in the field now and I'm just leaving the tree line. I can see our people out in the distance, looking like ants. The distance makes them look so small. I should be with them right now. But I didn't listen because I'm stupid. And now Dad's hurt.

I look down at my shoes again, ashamed. 

"Is that Daryl?" I hear Glenn's voice ask. 

I look up just as I'm about to bump into my dad's back. I didn't notice that he had stopped walking. Now that I'm looking up, I can see that Shane, Rick, Glenn, and T-Dog have come running towards us. Rick's pointing his gun right at Dad's head. He must think he's a walker.

"That's the third time you've pointed that thing at my head. You gonna pull the trigger or what?" Dad growls, limping closer. He's extra angry because of how bad his leg hurts. Again, my fault.

Rick drops his arms, letting his gun go back down to his side.

Then, I hear a loud crack in the distance. And that's the last thing I hear or see, because now my ears are ringing louder than they ever have before, and my eyes-  gosh, my eyes aren't working. I can't see. I can't- I can't do anything. I think I'm dead. I think I'm dead.