No Good (Daryl Dixon)

Chapter 8

~Rebel's POV~

This wasn't a journey. Every journey ends, but we go on. The world moves on and we move on with it. As dreams disappear, reality takes over. The cold truth hurts and love is thrown around like a play toy.

When you're a child, people tell you "It's you and me against the world.", but it's not. As you grow, you realize that it's not you that's against the world, it's the world that's against you. People fight to take you down and they try to mar your dreams and your hope.

You can't let them win. If you give up, if you stop fighting, you've lost. I never though it was fair that something so small could make such a big impact on your life. Or how something so big can make the smallest difference.

When the outbreak came, you had to adjust. It was either that, or you die. So many people failed to do so because they didn't want to give up the comfortable lives they had. I was not one of them. Yasmine and I had always joked about how one day there would be a zombie apocalypse and how we would survive it.

Now it wasn't a joke. It was reality.

Fighting for your life wasn't a game, it wasn't a lifestyle. It was a choice, and if you didn't make the right choice, you're dead or dying. You had to be fast on your feet and quick in your mind or else you wouldn't make it.

Living was an option. It was an option most people didn't receive. Some people take it for granted while others can't help but beg for it.

This world was cruel, it didn't give second chances. You had to kill or be killed. It was really that simple. If you were to soft, the world wouldn't overlook that. It would cut you down in a matter of seconds. It would take what was most precious of you and it would do it without a second thought.

These thoughts spun through my head as the camp was packed up. Amy had woken and Andrea had shot her, after that, we decided to leave. This place held too many bad memories for us to stay, The cars were packed stiff with the little amount of supplies we had left and Rick was dealing out seating arrangements.

"Rebel, the only room we have for you is on Daryl's bike. You good with that?" Rick asked me. I nodded my head. I hadn't spoken to Daryl since the truck and I knew he was still mad at me. According to Rick, we would round up the back.

I turned to say goodbye to Piper, but she just ignored me. She had been ever since the night when the walkers came. I didn't blame her. She was almost killed because she came with me and it was my fault.

Well no. It wasn't. She didn't have to come with me. She didn't have to follow me. She could've stayed with Gunner and Porter. It's not my fault she came here. It's not my fault she was nearly killed.

Those thoughts helped me to roll my eyes at her while she was staring daggers at me. She didn't have to be here. No one was forcing her to stay. For all I cared, she could leave right now.

Bitch.

Everyone piled into their seperate cars, leaving Daryl and I standing awkwardly near his motorcycle. He cleared his throat and climbed onto the front of the bike seat, leaving the back portion for me. I swung my leg over and perched myself comfortably behind him.

"Ye' gonna hold on or are ya gonna fall off?" he asked me. He was practically treating me like an annoying little sister. I huffed and wrapped my arms around his waist, ignoring the little electric sparks that flew through my body wherever we were in contact.

Stupid hormones.

He reved the bike engine, signaling for the others to get a move on. Slowly, car after car, the camp emptied and there was no one left. Daryl made no move to even start his bike. He pulled the key out of the ignition and placed the kick stand down.