Disclosure:
Okay, so my boyfriend and I just finished our The Walking Dead season 7 binge this past weekend (we are cursed with only having Netflix during the real-time episodes).
Anyway, a funny tidbit about my boyfriend, Garrett. His last name is Negen, which is pronounced NAY-GAN. In The Walking Dead, our new big bad is called NEE-GAN, but it is spelled Negan, the way Garrett's last name is supposed to be pronounced. What's funny is literally everyone on planet Earth ever pronounces Garrett's last name as NEE-GAN. Even my younger brother who's known Garrett for the better part of three years now got confused and swapped the Negen/Negan pronunciations when we brought it up.
This is probably super-weird confusing information, but it IS the inspiration for my in-shower anecdote (which is totally personal fan-fiction).
Okay, so I am now going to officially write down what my imagination produces during shower-time no matter the possible consequence that is the label of extreme freakazoid.
Also, I apologize for any inaccuracies that may cause mean The Walking Dead fans to yell in all caps at me.
Here we go.
Jillian's The Walking Dead Shower Anecdote: Part I
A woman is rummaging through an abandoned GMC. She may still look quite young if her face didn't wear such a worn expression.
After acquiring nothing more than an old holey sweatshirt and a flashlight that didn't work, she decided to move on. This woman has been on the road now for over ten months. She was separated from the last group she was accompanying while they were moving through Raleigh. They were decent people but she just didn't see the point of going through all the trouble to reconnect. As far as she is concerned, she's been on her own for a couple years now.
She moved on from the older and kind of ugly GMC. The truck was a tan-brown color that no one would ever guess was coming next if they were playing that car-color prediction game her, her Dad, and her brother used to play when they were kids.
She tried not to think of the truck's life before all of this. Who the gold watch hung around the gear-shift belonged to. How they were so similar; abandoned, insignificant, serving no purpose as if they were just squatters mooching off of a world that no longer belonged to people.
Now she moved quietly through the woods just as her father had taught her to when he took her deer-hunting. She used to love meeting new people but knew that now it was smarter not to take that chance.
Her black boots crept through the damp underbrush.When she came upon a campsite that looked like it'd been alone too for some time, she couldn't pass up the opportunity for napping. The tent was nothing special, but it zipped shut. Walkers may come close but she was confident they couldn't maneuver that beautiful mechanism.
That evening she was trying to scrape together some dinner and while tracking one crafty rabbit she came to the edge of the wood. As she lurked behind a tree she watched a group of people approach what looked like a complex or fortress where she assumed they resided. It rests on the top of the hill and had walls too tall to make any inferences.
A young boy in the group caught her eye. He was slim with dark hair. Like Henry may have looked at this age.
She turned and almost jumped half-way up the tree as she spotted the man standing behind her.
"Hello."
He was really hairy. Young but pulled off a beard so long and thick it looked like one of the fake ones she used to goof around with in the costume shop.
"Look, I was just leaving." Her voice was soft and level.
"Well, how about you don't."
...TO BE CONTINUED.
