•°•Phase one°•°
~Act one~
~Date: August 24th, 2010~
"Children don't get traumatized
because they get hurt.
They get traumatized because 
they're alone with the hurt."

Brooks Dixon - (age 10)

Carl Grimes - (age 11)

Sophia Peletier - (age 12)

Christopher Peletier - (age 12)

Daryl Dixon - (age 30)

Merle Dixon - (age 40)

Will Dixon - (age 65)

Cam Blake - (age 33)

/----------\

Everyone portrays their original characters in the show! As of right now, there's no more OC's other than Brooks, Cam and Christopher! Will technically isn't an OC because he was briefly in The Walking Dead Game before he met Jesus. Not the one portrayed by Tom Payne.

Playlist:

- Little Girl Gone by CHINCHILLA
-Set Fire to the Rain by Adele
-Let me Down Slowly by Alec Benjamin
-Highway to Hell by ACDC
-Queen of Kings by Alessandra
-Labour by Paris Paloma
-Way Down We Go by KALEO
-House of Memories by Panic! At The Disco
-Dead Weight by BRKN LOVE
-Skin by Rag 'n' Bone Man
-Brother by Kodaline
-Live Like Legends by Ruelle
-Leave a Light On by Tom Walker
-Unstoppable by Sia
-Human by Rag 'n' Bone Man
-Surface Pressure by Jessica Darrow
-Somewhere Only We Know by Keane

/----------\

Constant themes that are so frequent, they are not in the trigger warnings because it would be nearly every chapter:

~Child abuse
~Mentions of child abuse (not the act itself)
~Alcoholism
~Racism
~Swearing
~Unnecessary dickheadness from most people
~A lot of 'Jacie, leave this child alone' moments
~Cliff hangers for days

Tik Tok (for admittedly mediocre edits): SweetAndSaltyWP

DISCLAIMER: I'm not here to give you the 'I don't own TWD' speech because we both know that's the case, I fear. However, I am here to tell you that this is not the perfect fanfiction. Her and Carl will not fall in love as soon as they see each other, she will not be loved by every character to meet her. This story is the origin story of a villain, to be honest. She's not everybody's best friends, your favourite characters will not always like her. She's gonna go through crap, after crap, after crap, and won't always be offered a shoulder to cry on, so welcome to my take of the most realistic The Walking Dead fanfiction you'll probably read, that will also piss you off beyond comfort.

Please feel free to yell at me in the comments,
-Jacie xx

/----------\

"Brooks!" Will Dixon shouted up the stairs, wanting his ten year old daughter to clean up his mess, and his sons'. She had been peacefully reading a book called 'How to Teach Quantum Physics To Your Dog', not that their a hundred year old bulldog named Buckster would ever follow the steps - it brought the child joy. 

Besides, it was much better than the book of old nursery rhymes Brooks had been reading the night before, at least. There was one rhyme, especially, that caught her attention because it creeped her out:

Ring around the rosie,

a pocket full of posies,ashes ashes;We all fall down.

There was just something about it that didn't feel right. Something that gave her a bad vibe. She knew it was referencing the black plague, and death, but to try and turn something so grave into something innocent and for children just twisted her the wrong way. It made her imagine being left alone while everyone around her dies... Though, if that everyone was Will... Perhaps that wouldn't be so bad.

She marked her page before jumping off her bed which had been owned by both Daryl and Merle in their childhoods, and ran from her room. The room was small, but she was lucky, Daryl and Merle had to share it growing up. These days they both had their own places, so she wouldn't have to share her room. However, the Dixon brothers spent an awful lot of time at their house doing illegal things in the living room they could no longer call theirs.

Brooks fearfully ran down the creaky steps as quickly as she could. She saw her father leaning back on his green, leather armchair that was probably older than Merle. Her two big brothers sat side by side on a brown felt couch that was pulled out of a dumpster in 1989. The brown wooden floors matched the brown wooden walls like they'd been cut from the same tree, it made the room feel a thousand times smaller. The three small windows barely let in light because they had gathered so much grime over the years. Their bulldog Buckster was snoring heavily, curled up on the same brown rug that was definitely older than Will Dixon. The tv that stopped manufacturing ten years ago quietly played the news in the background, however none of the Dixon men paid attention. If they had been listening, they'd heard the reports about the dead rising. No, instead their focus was on the beer cans and odd piles of white powder that littered the small room.

"Yea, dad?" Brooks asked, standing at the bottom of the stairs that blended with the walls like a chameleon blends with a leaf.

Will scoffed, dragging out his cigarette as he shook his head. "Don't yea, dad me." Brooks tried not to cough as the smoke quickly filled her nostrils, she knew it would only anger him and Merle. Daryl wouldn't mind so much.

"I'm sorry." The young girl responded, not quite sure what she did wrong this time. However, her aching ribs and bruised cheek reminded her not to argue back to her father. The man who was supposed to protect her.

"Hell happened to you?" Daryl asked, noticing her bruise. Deep down, Daryl knew that his little sister suffered the same treatment that himself and Merle encountered, but he'd never let himself think of it. Simply, he told himself that his father would never beat a little girl. Oh, how wrong he was. Brooks' eyes flickered to her brother, before back to her dad, not knowing what he wanted her to do.

"She fell." Will responded, grinning. Sarcasm, of course. Will knew that Daryl told himself he didn't know about how he was raising Brooks, and he didn't care. Will and Merle allowed Daryl to live in that delusion, because both were curious how far he'd take it. Would it be when he saw the scars she had that matched his? Or, would he have to witness it himself?

Merle took a swig of beer. "Shouldn't you be in school or somethin', Bambi?" Merle used the nickname he'd given her when she was just a baby, her big, brown eyes reminding him of a deer. Of course, Merle had seen plenty of deer, he'd killed several dozen himself, but the nickname was in good intent.

"Dad didn't wanna take me today." Brooks responded.

Will chuckled. "You should be thanking me, baby, you don't need school. Damn waste of time, I'm tellin' you. Me and your brothers didn't need it, and we turned out just fine."

Brooks raised her eyebrow slightly, but lowered her head so they wouldn't see the judgement on her face. Eight more years she told herself. Eight years and she could leave. 2,934 days, she was keeping track. "Why did you call me?" She asked, looking back up.

"Clean this place up, would you?" Will requested, breathing in more from his cigarette.

Daryl looked to his father. "Dad, we made the mess, she don't need to clean it."

Will scoffed. "Having a cleaner was the only plus side to havin' a damn girl."

"Chop, chop." Merle said, drunklike and with a chuckle.

Brooks clenched her jaw but got to work. She moved forward and started picking up the beer cans and bottles that littered the coffee table. "Here, I'll help." Daryl said, putting out his own cigarette as he helped her gather the remains of their activities.

Merle rolled his eyes. "You're too damn soft, Daryl."

"Probably why he can't get laid." Will said with a smirk, talking about his son in a way that no father should. Will wasn't like a normal father, he didn't see himself as a dad, he saw himself as someone who got to boss three people around. Three people that he never wanted to exist in the first place. The only reason he has Brooks is because her mother died in child birth, otherwise he would've had nothing to do with her. Well, died in child birth is what the doctors told Will. He never looked into the fact they never asked him to identify the body, or that no funeral was thrown. He was always to high or drunk to care really.

Daryl and Brooks carried the first lot of cans and bottles to the kitchen. What Brooks didn't know is that Daryl was the one who actually raised her, from the minute she was born until she was about five when Will deemed she could "take care of herself" - she couldn't.

"So, uh, how's school goin', Brookie?" Daryl asked as he placed his rubbish in the bin, and helped her get hers in. Brooks shrugged. "Come on, book worm like you gotta be ruling the school, huh?"

Brooks raised her eyebrows and pushed her glasses up her nose. "Dad won't take me anymore. It's a five mile walk. I go about three times a week, walk myself there and back. Yet, I'm still at the top of my class." She spoke, slight bitterness in her tone. For now, Brooks was too young to know the difference between Daryl and her father.

Daryl nodded, biting his bottom lip. He glanced towards the door that lead to the living room before he squatted down in front of his sister. "Alright... Why don't I drive 'round and take you every mornin'? Huh?"

Brooks furrowed her eyebrows. "You'd do that for me?"

Daryl smiled. "Course, what time's it start? Eleven? Twelve?"

"Eight."

Daryl raised his eyebrows, letting out an alcohol coated breath onto his little sister's face. "M'kay, well I'll come get ya. Take ya home too. Sound good?"

A wide smile took over Brooks' face as she jumped up and down a couple times. "Really? Really?" She repeated, making sure to keep her voice down. Daryl simply smiled. "Thank you." She whispered before she stepped forward to kiss his cheek. Dixons don't hug.

Daryl's heart instantly warmed at the affection. He cleared his throat. "Alright, well, this bin is gonna fill up soon. Go drag in the one from the bottom of the yard, aye?"

Brooks nodded, going around her brother and out the back door, her little feet practically skipping down the path. What Brooks didn't know, is that when Daryl sobered up he realised that he probably would never do what he told his sister he would. Not out of hatred or cruelty, out of fear that his brother and father would ridicule him for his soft touch.

Brooks' hands reached up for the bin when she spotted a lady walking towards her unfenced yard. Brooks furrowed her eyebrows at the lady's state. The only people around here are usually dog walkers. The lady was deathly pale, her hair was littered with dirt and leaves, her mouth was agape as she seemed to be groaning and coming straight for Brooks. Her eyes were wild and grey - like she was blind, but Brooks could see the lady watching her every move.

When the lady got closer, Brooks recognised her, that's when fear grew in her chest... Mrs Vasquez passed away two days ago. Drug overdose. Brooks found the body herself while walking to the library. A loud, ear piercing scream erupted from Brooks' throat, knowing that Mrs Vasquez was very, very dead, and therefore, according to science, shouldn't be walking around.

Daryl all but kicked the door down as soon as he heard the scream of the girl. Brooks was running towards the house, trying to drag the bin with her - even with her life in peril, she was afraid of the angry wrath of her father. Daryl noticed the woman who seemed to be chasing his much slower sister. "Merle!" Daryl yelled into the house, going to his brother for help and not his father. Daryl knew that Merle cared more for the girl than Will ever would.

Daryl ran down the yard and picked up Brooks before he kicked Mrs Vasquez in the chest. She stumbled back a few feet, but came at them again. Brooks' hands no longer held onto the bin, but were tightly wrapped around her big brother as her legs wrapped around his waist, hoping for some kind of safety. "That bitch is meant to be dead!" Merle pointed out, confused, as he joined Daryl.

"Well she obviously ain't!" Daryl shouted back. Merle grabbed a fistful of her hair as he held her head back, away from the trio.

"Now, what the fuck?" Will asked, leaving the house as he stared at Mrs Vasquez trying to claw at Merle. Luckily, or unluckily, depending on your view... Mrs Vasquez lost both her arms in a motorbike accident several years ago, so she couldn't grab ahold of Merle Dixon. Will, Daryl and Merle stared at her, while Brooks hid her face. Tears of fear soaking Daryl's neck, but of course, he couldn't care less.

"I heard 'bout this." Brooks said, barely audible.

Merle looked to her, and gently (his version of gentle, at least) grabbed the back of her neck and forced her to show her face. "Say it louder."

Brooks wiped her face, hoping her family wouldn't see her crying - it was painfully obvious, but she tried. "On the news. Somethin' 'bout the dead risin'. Our extinction event."

Nodding in agreement, because he'd heard about it too, Merle said. "Grab a gun." He pushed Brooks' face back into Daryl's neck, because he didn't want her to see it. A, not the, the family was well stocked.

"Already packin'." Will responded, pulling a Glock from his waistband. He shot her in the chest, but this didn't affect the surprising creature. In fact, the biggest reaction was Brooks screaming in shock at the sudden loud noise.

"Go inside." Daryl ordered her, putting her on the ground. Brooks didn't hesitate to run inside, grab a hold of Backster's collar, the dog still hadn't moved in the chaos, and run him upstairs. The two hid in her wardrobe, where Brooks was used to hiding to avoid her father's drunken cruelties.

Still outside, Daryl, Merle and Will were confused by this anomaly in their yard. Not that any of the three knew the word anomaly or its definition, Brooks did. "How the fuck she still standin'?" Will asked.

"I knew 'em tits were fake. Probably bounced off the fucking balloons the whore kept in there." Merle shrugged, still casually smoking his cigarette in his free hand.

"Try the head." Daryl suggested. Will did as Daryl said, and she fell limp in Merle's grip, he released his fist and her corpse fell (once again) dead.

Will shook his head. "I said America was going down the fuckin' toilet. Started when they gave women the right to vote, then they get rid of separating the whites and blacks, then they give the gays the right to marry and now the dead's walking. What's next? We'll have a woman president. This country's gone down the shitter."

"You said it." Merle said, taking a deep inhale of his cigarette before sighing, looking at the corpse.

Daryl looked to his father. "You do realise your daughter is black, and a girl."

"She's half black." Will stated. "And I didn't want it. I only fucked her mama cause she had an ass on her that I could look past the black part, ain't my fault she didn't get a fuckin' abortion." Daryl licked his lips, he wanted to say something, defend his sister, but he didn't. And, when it came to his father, he never would. "What? You got somethin' to say, boy?"

"No." Daryl grunted.

Will hummed. "What I thought. Go make sure you're sister's cleanin' up."

Daryl swallowed thickly. "I'll do it, dead thing came right at her. Kid's been through enough today."

Will shrugged. "Whatever."