One way or another [Daryl Dixon]

[5] FAMILIAR FACES.

"Don't tell me you dreams. Tell my your nightmares, so that I can show you they are not real."

-Naveen Durgaraju

While I tried to sleep, I could hear the distant cries of a small baby in my head. Repetitive, with the same sound and volume. After a while of listening to it, I decided it was time to wake up and put an end to the agonising cries. I climbed out of the bunk, but the distant cries lingered in my mind. An infant's small cries.

Shortly after the cries a small soothing voice spoke; I couldn't make out any of the words they were saying, only slight murmurs. It was at that point that I decided to leave my cell and see what was going on. He was a little boy, and he appeared to be nearly broken beyond repair. For unknown reasons, his eyes were drooping and puffy. The boy's dark hair was hidden beneath a sheriff's hat, and he had blue eyes that I recognised from somewhere. He was pacing up and down the hallway, trying to feed a newborn baby.

"Morning." I called out before approaching in case I startled the kid. If he dropped the baby, I'd most likely be executed.

"You're Harlow, aren't you?" He seemed to to be confident in himself while being so conflicted at the same time.

He quickly introduced himself as Carl Grimes, giving him a curt nod in response to his question. I knew I'd seen those blue eyes before. Rick Grime's son, it made perfect sense why he was so adamant about killing me if I hurt anyone. His children lived here.

"The sheriff's son." I cracked a grin.

Before saying anything, he gave a small smile. "Well, ex-sheriff."

"Who is this adorable bundle of joy?"

"Judith Grimes, my sister."

As she settled, the small baby cooed in his arms, finally accepting the bottle. I almost envied the baby, because she was so oblivious to the dangers that were present in the world at the time. Judith, on the other hand, would never see the bright side; she would only know the dark side, and for that I felt sorry.

Carl looked up at me, away from his sister in his arms. "Dad said you were going on a run today. With Dad, Michonne, and I."

I replied sarcastically. "Of course he did."

The small boy said nothing else, and simply looked down at his sister before disappearing back into a cell.

Despite the fact that we were all staying in a prison, everyone's smiles, positive attitudes, and diverse personalities removed the dark and dingy vibe you might expect from a prison. Instead, it painted the walls a brighter, more colourful atmosphere, obscuring the reality of where we were really staying.