Chapter Three: Bravery

When everything started to sink into Alice's mind, when she'd finally realized she was now an orphan, she started to cry. She was in a stranger's house, sleeping in a strange bed, all alone in a silent room. She didn't cry a lot when she was little; Her dad made sure to make her tough. But every single time she thought of him, her heart wrenched with pain and more tears escaped her eyes.

Cara and the man (Who's called himself Terry) left her alone in her new room. It was a small room that had a window near the ceiling. There were bars on the window, to prevent Walkers from breaking in and eating them.

She wished her dad spent more time telling her about them. She saw them dozens of times in her life. She never once had to face one alone, though.

Again, another wave of pain and sadness swept through her body.

A knock at the door.

"Alice J.?" Cara.

Alice didn't want to talk with her, but she responded anyway,"Yes?"

"You want some dinner? We're cooking some meat and beans."

"Sure, give me a minute," Alice said. She stood up and looked at herself in her mirror. She longed to be in her own bed, with her own belongings. The house her and her dad occupied was on the other side of the bridge. She'd have to learn how to kill those things, before she could even attempt to retrieve her stuff.

She wiped her eyes with the edge of the blanket, making sure she didn't look like she'd just cried. It probably wasn't going to work, since they were red and puffy.

She exited the room slowly, walking the long hall to the kitchen and dining area. The room was lit with a few candles, since electricity is scarcely conveyed throughout the world. She was lucky enough back where she used to live to have a few lights in her old home. It was hard to see with just candlelight in the room. They sat at a circular table together, passing the meat and beans around and dishing it to plates.

"So, Alice J., is it?" Terry began a conversation.

"Just....Alice. Please." She replied, scooping food to her mouth.

"It's funny," Cara said,"I used to call your father Paul J., as a joke. He used to get mad but we'd laugh about it anyway. Guess he carried it on to you."

"He never told me that. He just always called me Alice J., when he'd joke around or need me really badly." Alice moved the beans around her plate, not really hungry anymore.

"The more you know," Cara said.

The rest of dinner was finished in silence, and Alice returned to her new bedroom quietly. She sat up against the headboard, thinking her situation through.

From now on, she would be brave. For her dad. For herself.