It was a cold, spring night. Sharp, frigid rain tapped against the splintered window of the hospital room that fifteen-year-old Ashely Green was currently in. The young teen sat in a padded, salmon bleached chair that she had dragged from waiting room to this particular room. Twisting her hands as they lay on her lap, she cast a nervous and apprehensive glance at the door to the hospital room that former patient, Rick Grimes, rested in just a few feet from her.
Ashely was no doctor and understood nothing that was wrong with him. What little she understood was that he was the former sheriff before the world had turned to hell, and he was in a coma. Normally, she would have put a bullet through his head but the fifteen-year-old was remaining