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February 10th, 2001 was the day that Emmalyn Tate was certain would go down in history as she smiled up at the college she was attending for her internship. The Georgia School of Arts was an opportunity the now twenty-year-old had been excited for. She had been spending the past few months sorting through her inheritance and family debts, working heavy shifts while settling into her new apartment in the city. Just like Merle had wanted, he had shown up to the Tate residence the next morning and found an empty home; he had smiled with pride for the woman and turned to his brother with a nod.

Truthfully, Daryl had been heartbroken by Emmalyn's choice to leave but the knowledge that she got out of the godforsaken town they lived in to make something of herself overpowered that heartbreak. He knew that he would always hold the woman in his heart but she was destined to be someone more than just known as the firecracker that hung out with the local rednecks. He hoped that she'd fall in love, have a few kids and grow old happy; even if it was without him by her side. He'd be happy with the memories and the sketchbook she left behind in his room, admiring those pieces everytime he missed her.

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By the year 2007, Emmalyn's art was famously known through the world of artists under the pen name Cherry Blossom but she was not the face of the art. What Emmalyn had believed to be an opportunity to show her art to the world was truly an act of thievery by a woman who had no talent but more money and power than Emmalyn. Cassandra Michele was a powerful woman who was adored by many as a supermodel, a mentor, a mother and an artist. She had made promises to Emmalyn, gaslighting her into signing a contract that essentially stole all of Emmalyn's art. With this contract, none of the art that Emmalyn created was her own; she held no rights over it.

At first, Emmalyn did all she could to fight for the rights of her art but the clear promise that Cassandra would ruin her life stopped Emmalyn from fighting and instead, she had managed to convince Cassandra to at least use the pen name Cherry Blossom on the art; it was the closest Emmalyn got to the rights of her own art. Thankfully, she still got a large cut of the sales and that allowed her to buy her own home. She knew those who knew her pen name would admire her artwork and murals and that would be enough for her; she didn't do it for fame. As long as her friends back home knew it was her art in the world, that's what mattered to her.

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t.w: manipulative partner abuse

Aside from that disappointment regarding her career, Emmalyn had met a guy in the internship. Dylan Hecox was the epitome of the ladies man, he made girls swoon with a smile and had a silvertongue. And Emmalyn had been the one to snatch him up and make things official in 2008, it had been a different thing in her life; Her first boyfriend. And while a part of her heart held on to Daryl, she felt happy with Dylan. At least, she did in the first year of their relationship. On their one year anniversary, April 2009, Emmalyn had planned a dinner for them knowing he had been busy working and she was sure that he would be grateful for it.

Dylan had gotten home late, the food on the table was cold, the candles had melted halfway and Emmalyn was sitting on the couch watching television. She got up when the door closed and made her way into the foyer as Dylan kicked his shoes off and removed his jacket. "You're home late," Emmalyn told him with a frown. "Overtime," Dylan replied blandly before hanging his jacket up on the hook. "Well, dinners gone cold and the wine is warm," Emmalyn informed him as she moved to throw the food out, she was wishing she wrapped it hours earlier and just put it in the fridge. "I already ate," Dylan told her and moved to walk down the hall.

"You know its our one year anniversary, right?" Emmalyn asked him as she followed behind him. "So?" Dylan questioned in a bored tone. "Well, I thought we could make it romantic and..." Emmalyn trailed off as Dylan turned to her with a raised brow. "It would be special..." Emmalyn hinted bringing a smirk to Dylan's face, he moved towards her and trapped her between him and the wall. "It still could be," Dylan whispered seductively. "I'm not in the mood," Emmalyn told him. "I'll help with that," Dylan growled before moving his hands under her shirt. "No!" Emmalyn snapped as she tried to push him away.

"Stop!" Emmalyn slammed him into the opposite wall and crossed her arms in a way to protect herself. "What is wrong with you!? We've been together for a year and you won't fuck me!?" Dylan shouted at her, she flinched under his anger. "Why is your shirt inside out?" Emmalyn asked softly. "What?" Dylan questioned in annoyance. "Your shirt... is inside out. And you smell like... perfume," Emmalyn stammered as she put the pieces together. Dylan rolled his eyes at her, "You always do this. Make some shit up to change the subject! You won't tell me about your family or your home. You won't let me touch you and you barely share intimacy with me! Do I disgust you or something? Do you even love me?"

Emmalyn frowned at the sadness in Dylan's eyes, she felt terrible despite the voice screaming from the back of head telling her what she knew but the fear of being alone and rejected caused her to push that away. "I'm sorry... I--my father wasn't a nice man and he..." Emmalyn trailed off, she couldn't bring herself to tell him. "Maybe I should go," Dylan told her, he turned to walk away from her but she stopped him. "Wait..." Emmalyn breathed out, Dylan stopped and smirked to himself as Emmalyn placed her hands on his shoulders, turning him around before slamming her lips against his own. While Dylan enjoyed himself that night, Emmalyn did not.

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The troubles escalated from there as Emmalyn gave up her body to Dylan whenever he wanted it like it no longer belonged to her. And he still came home late from work, inside out shirts or smelling like perfume but she continued to turn a blind eye to his actions out of fear of being alone to her nightmares. Over time, Emmalyn's voice lessened between the reminders of her father's abuse, Cassandra's control and Dylan's manipulation. She became silent, finding that her voice was the trouble that made her life hard; if she didn't fight back, she didn't suffer as much. The final kick to the ribs was the first time Dylan had hit her for asking questions about his whereabouts.

Like every other time, Emmalyn's stunned state took over and she submitted to the man's scream of anger and shame for having a girlfriend who asked too many questions and didn't trust him; "do you even love me?" He asks. It was the final draw for Emmalyn Jayde Tate, her voice no longer mattered to those around her. Her boss always told her to shut up, her boyfriend told her to stop asking questions, her friends claimed she was too passionate in her words, her professors say she was too outspoken and her father's haunting words always reminded her that she was too loud.

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tw: mentions of physical abuse

"I hate you!" Emmalyn wished she screamed out instead of the silent tears that rolled down her cheeks as she lay on the ground curled into a ball, her ribs were aching greatly as Dylan screamed and shouted pacing through the room smashing up the place. His lip was busted, left eye swollen and his arm bleeding from a cut caused by a knife but Emmalyn was the one on the ground littered in bruises and cuts. Her arms bled from the defensive way she held her arms to protect herself when Dylan raged out and slashed at her with the pocket knife she owned as protection against him.

She had confronted him about sleeping with Cassandra, her boss and he had snapped at her. She jumped at the sound of the front door slamming shut, the sound of the car engine starting before speeding away leaving Emmalyn behind. Emmalyn pushed herself up off of the ground, leaning back against the wall as she looked down at the several cuts on her arms that were bound to scar over. "All citizens are being asked to lock their doors and barricade their homes. Do not approach these sick people, they are a threat. The dead are rising and attacking people blindly, find a safe place and be prepared. The Government will have this handled with their military. Be safe," The news reporter spoke on the television.

Emmalyn's eyes were wide at the videos that played on the news before the screen flashed over red with an official governmental warning telling people to barricade their homes and get to safety. She shivered when the front door opened to reveal Dylan, he held his hand to his wrist and cursed under his breath as he put it under the water washing away the blood. "Damn crazy man bit me," Dylan growled out as Emmalyn slowly approached him to look at the bite, she furrowed her brows before swallowing carefully; she didn't feel good about this whole thing. She took notice of his high fever and sighed as he walked over to the couch and sat down, "Damn, I'm tired..."

Emmalyn made her way into the bathroom to grab the first aid kit for him when a sudden thud alerted her, she turned her head to the door and walked out. She gasped spotting Dylan lying dead on the ground, his eyes were staring blankly at the wall. Emmalyn rushed to the phone and dialled 9-1-1 only to hear the dial tone, her heart was pounding in her chest. She turned her attention back to Dylan only to find him standing in front of her, he suddenly growled out before pouncing at her. "No!" Emmalyn rasped out, she fell back on the ground and tried to push him off of her.

Her eyes looked around for a weapon when she spotted her pocket knife, she did her best to reach for the weapon while holding Dylan's undead body away from her. His jaw snapped at her while his hands reached around randomly in a way that suggested he had no control over them. Emmalyn used all of her strength ignoring the pain from her ribs to push Dylan's dead weight off of her and to the side, lifting her leg to kick him aside; using her feet to push her up to the knife in time to turn and shove the blade through Dylan's eye. His body collapsed on her as she cried out, her heart both breaking and pieces coming back together again.

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Emmalyn had packed up as much supplies as she could and decided that a large city filled with the dead wouldn't be the best place to be. And so she settled into her father's old jeep and headed out of the city turning a selfish blind eye to anyone who waved for her help; not that many of them were alive. The explosion of bombs behind her told her all she needed to know about the city, she had been stunned by the decision the government made in regards to this strange disease that bought the dead back to life. Her moment of distraction resulted in her hitting a couple of dead people causing her car to spin out of control.

The jeep slid across the road into the railing before tipping onto its side, Emmalyn knocking her head on the door causing her to blackout. After a while, Emmalyn came to enough to realise that she was no longer alone which caused fear through her body thinking it was an undead person until muffled words told her what she needed to know. "We can't leave her here," A woman snapped out harshly. "And we cannot help every person we come across," A man growled back at the woman. "Don't leave her to die," A softer voice pleaded. The last thing Emmalyn heard was the sound of the door opening and someone grabbing her from the car.

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Rosemary Speaks

Oh man... I am obsessed with my Rewrite of this story. Obviously the comments don't match but I kind of like the mystery/history for the old writing and readers.

How are we feeling so far?

Who do you think saved Emmalyn?

Also, the story of Emmalyn's situation with Cassandra actually happened to my cousin on a lower scale. She's a local artist star and she finally reclaimed the rights of her art!!
She's given up on selling it and posting it, instead she donates it to schools, homes and such. It's pretty cool to me.

See you in the next chapter!