Beth sat silent, staring up at her father from her place at the kitchen table. Her hands shook, clenched together in her lap. The motion continued until her whole body was rattling against the wooden chair.

Hershel's head sagged down as he noticed her lack of composure. "Bethy, if there was any other way…" Her father stammered.

"Daddy, he's too...old."

Hershel rolled his eyes, exasperated at her comment. "The man is barely ten years your senior. Whether either of us like this, it is your role to marry-" Herschel stopped for a moment, as if he didn't want to finish the sentence, "-and bear the man children. Shane Walsh will make a fine husband in time. He can take care of you and whatever children you're blessed with."

Beth felt the blush rise across her face at the mention of children. She certainly knew the logistics of bedroom romance at eighteen, but she didn't really desire the mental image of herself lying beneath a man like Shane Walsh. While he had never come off as an evil man—being a constable of the town— there was a hardness in his eyes that chilled her.

Beth couldn't believe this was happening to her. To be only eighteen, on the brink of life, and told she must marry a man ten years older than her was an outrage. And for what?

"The farm is floundering will all these taxes being brought on us." Her father answered, as if he had heard her thoughts. "This new Governor is trying to end us. I swear it."

Beth clinched her shaking hands into fists as her face grew red once more, only this time it reflected the rage she felt. Without a second glance to the man whom she had loved and who had raised her, she got up from her chair and made sure to slam the door as she exited.

Much later in the evening, as her father sat with a book in his hand and a tea by his side, Beth quietly let herself out the door in the kitchen; the door led to the back side of the farm, which ultimately led into the deep forest she was destined for, darkened by the night. Now, in her moment of desperate escape, its trees and branches appeared more like straining hands drawing her in.

She hadn't allowed herself to think of anything she was leaving behind, only her need to get away from a man she didn't love and a marriage she didn't desire. She couldn't look over shoulder to the lighted house that she had existed peacefully in for her entire life. Tears sprang up in her eyes, but she couldn't let them fall yet.

Instead, she tightened her hold on the miniscule bag she packed hastily on her shoulder. She had packed only the essentials: one plain colored dress, undergarments and a small loaf of bread that she was certain no one would miss. She had the good sense to change into her riding gear; the tightly fitted slacks and boots would hopefully protect her from the sharp undergrowth in the woods. She had a loose fitting top and a dark green cloak covering her head. She looked the epitome of plain and unobtrusive, as she had hoped to.

Beth felt her pulse quicken as she got closer to the woods. Despite her sadness, she felt a twinge of excitement. For once, she was making a choice entirely on her own, and this choice would irreversibly change her entire life. The sheer independence ignited a fire in her, and she found herself running faster. She reached the very edge of her father's property line, and all she needed to do was climb the fence and she'd be stepping into the trees.

The sound of hooves had her stepping away from the fence. She looked up just in time to see Shane Walsh and his horse clattering past her towards the stable yard, and Beth froze. Bending down, she prayed he hadn't seen her. She suspected that he must have known that her father was informing her of their impending marriage today. The man must have come to request her hand formerly himself. She stayed bent low, but she needn't have worried, for Shane hadn't even glanced in her direction; instead, he trotted arrogantly up to her father's door.

Beth breathed a sigh of relief and couldn't stop the victorious smirk that crossed her face. She only needed to climb the rickety iron gate and she'd be free. She wrapped both hands on the cold, rusting metal, but drew back instead of climbing up. The area around her was quiet now. She hesitated. What of Maggie? How could she go without even as much as a goodbye to her older sister? Her sister was already married, but only lived on a small estate a few miles up to the road. She'd been in such a furious state that she hadn't given Maggie a second thought. Maggie had been such a wonderful sister, always taking care of her, listening to her foolish dreams. Beth's mother had died during childbirth, and Maggie filled that void, taking over the role of a mother, being a whole eight years older than Beth.

Beth heard a door open, and a chorus of her father and Shane's chuckling echoed around her. If Beth went back now, just for a farewell to her sister, she would never get this chance again.

Steeling herself, Beth brought her hands back to the fence and pulled herself over it. She didn't even sneak a single glance behind her; she just ran.

Once she started, she didn't dare stop. She hurtled into the woods, using her momentum to keep upright amongst the trees and thickets. Her boots crunched through the fall leaves. It was early September, but it seemed as if winter would be visiting early soon. She remembered noting how a frost had begun to form on the grass when she awoke a few mornings ago. She suddenly regretted not packing more clothing, but didn't falter her pace.

It was becoming more difficult to run now, and her feet ached from all the fallen sticks she had trampled over. She was sore and tired, but she breathed a sigh of relief when the woods cleared to accommodate a small, flowing brook. The stream flowed with foaming water, cast white with the moonlight. It was surrounded by thick bushes and long grass. Clean, fresh water. Her feet moved of their own accord, begging to be soaked. She dropped to her knees on the edge, cupping her hand to drink.

Her thirst quenched, and she removed her cloak, falling onto it as she laid it out. Contentment slowly took the place of fear. Above her, the stars were breaking through the trees, blinking. Beth had been running for hours. She knew she was probably lost by now, but she didn't care. She put her hands behind her head and shut her eyes.

Before long, Beth found herself being shaken awake. She jolted, realizing the shaking was coming from someone's foot. Sitting up quickly, she saw the foot belonged to man who looked frustratingly amused.

"You wanna tell tell me what you're doing in my forest, Sweetheart?" Was all he got out—with a smirk, she might add—before her own foot collided with his ribcage.