Hush Baby Im here

Chapter 5

We both sat on the bed, he turned my wrist around examining every inch. While his eyes scrutinized rapidly across my arm. Mine were glued to his face, and every time his fingers would come intact with my skin, my stomach would clench and my head left my body for a second.

"Damn." He muttered still trying to find the best way to cut through it and not cut me, "how do they usually do it?" He looked up at me expecting me to know the answer.

"What if we soaked it in water for a while?" He asked, "then it would get soft and easier to cut and pull off, not putting that much force on it." I thought about it for a bit, it would be smart if that's how it worked. Maybe it would stay hard and I'd just be wet.

"Maybe." I said, he raised his eyebrows asking for my point, "where would I keep it in water for five hours?"

A look of understanding registered on his face. He gave a deep sigh and dropped my hand, " I don't know Beth."

I shrugged and laid down, some dust flying up as I hit the light brown covers and matching pillow. I started to hum a melody that came from no where, and just kept playing in my head. I was surprised that he hasn't left yet, given my annoying humming. I started to laugh at that, and once it started it just came. I forgot what it was like to laugh so much, but I remembered what it was like to sob and breakdown.

He got up then, "Sleep." He said turning to go.

I wanted to yell "wait! Stay." but instead I managed a "you too." Before I choked up and stared to cough from the dust.

He turned back to catch me having a coughing fit, but I raised my hand and shrugged it off, saying I was good.

He nodded skeptically.

I don't know what, but there was something about Daryl Dixon that kept me sane and relaxed. Its hard to understand, I didn't even get it myself. But I know he felt it too.

. . .

I woke up to people yelling, and was dragged out of bed by my hair. I was in shock and didn't register what was happening right away. First thing I noticed was that I did not know the person holding me by my hair, which was a middle aged man in his early thirty's. One of his arms ran across my stomach, his other around my neck. The window across the room was open, must have been how they got in. I struggled a bit but it was no use.

So I improved. They probably saw me as an easy target, the wager. To hell with that, I was going to show them they were wrong.

My elbow went back with all my strength and he gave a satisfying "oomph."

I turned around and jumped toward the night stand where I kept my knife.

"You bitch!" He yelled jumping onto me. I went down, he didn't see that I had the knife in my hand. His hand came down on my head which shoved it into the floor, which sounded like a loud clap.

There is no lie when I say I saw stars, they speckled across my field of view, and I almost let go of my knife from the pain.

Instead I cursed the stars and struggled to turn around, now we were face to face and I got to see the agony rise in his eyes as my knife entered his back. I retracted it, he coughed, blood ran from his mouth. Splatting onto my neck and shirt. His eyes popped and he wheezed for breath, not seeming to get enough into his lungs.

That's when I felt sorry, my heart suddenly feeling soft and awful for taking a human life, I rolled him off me, and tried to fight the rising panic.

"I'm sorry." I whispered over and over again, tearing his shirt trying to stop the bleeding. Eventually though his eyes glazed over and his chest seemed to stop rising.

I didn't want to be a monster, no, I didn't want to be one of the bad people.

Then he came back, and all my tears suddenly dried up. His arms raised and clawed for me, but my knife had already found its mark. Was it really me or him? Did I have to kill him? Or did I just want to prove myself strong?

I was disgusted with myself.

So selfish.

I was still whispering to him when everyone entered the room carrying some boy I didn't know. He was beaten up pretty bad and unconscious, but other then that he seemed fine. Carl had his gun pointed and ready to shoot. Noah limped over to me and raised his hand to my forehead, placing his hand on an imaginary cut I couldn't see.

"What happened?" He asked faintly, while everyone was bustling and checking everyone else.

I scanned the room, everyone had made it through the attack. Glenn had a few forming bruises but Maggie was tending to them, Noah had a split lip, Carol was also bruising, and Carl had scratch marks across his left cheek. The others all seemed fine or were nursing invisible injury's. I silently thanked the lord. I was dizzy now, probably from the wound or from the guilt I had no idea.

I glanced down at the dead body. A pool of blood flooding the floor, I wanted to puke. But I knew I couldn't.

I gave my self ten seconds to recover, counting them as they passed. 

I just needed.. 1,2,3... A stable..4,5.. Place ..6,7.. For me to stay..8...9.

Rather then fall, because I was falling now, down, down, down. Into an infinite abyss.

And I screamed so loud, till my voice was gone. All the way down. 10.