A Simple Coincidence // Daryl Dixon

32 | A Shit Show

TW sensitive topic in this chapter,

"Carol, can I come in, or do you want to be alone?" I spoke through the door of the RV, leaning my ear against it to catch any slight noise that she might've made.

A few minutes passed before the door slightly opened revealing Carol's tired eyes. She opened it wide once she saw me and welcomed me in with a sad smile under her tear-filled eyes.

I stood in front of the mother, unsure of what to say. Seeing the tears flowing down her eyes endlessly.

I took a step closer to her and wrapped my arms around her fragile body. I wasn't one for physical contact, but it seemed like she found comfort in the embrace as she leaned into me and let out a quiet sob.

Carol was a quiet women, she never seemed to share her opinion like Andrea or Lori, she always kept to herself and only ever worried about finding her daughter.

No words in the world would ease a grieving mothers pain. But some might just give her the slightest comfort.

"Hershel said Otis was the one to bring the infected into the barn. If that's true, that means your little girl didn't suffer for long. She wasn't cold at night; she wasn't hungry for days. She most likely passed the next morning, before we went out looking for her. Before Carl got shot." I spoke quietly as I held onto Carol tightly. I felt her body relax and her sobs came to a stop.

After some time, we were both sitting on the small couch of the RV. She wasn't in any condition to talk, but she seemed to like the distraction of hearing my voice. Her head was resting on my shoulder and he hand was holding mine tightly.

I closed my eyes tightly every time a shiver would shake her small body.

Carol was older than me, probably old enough to be my mother. But I didn't feel we had a mother daughter bond, she felt more like a sister.

"She reminded me of myself you know. I was just like her, always by my mom's side trying to protect us from my shitty stepfather ."

Should I tell her?

Would it make her feel better?

I took a deep breath and prepared myself for the painful trip down memory lane.

Here comes the sad story.

"I don't know if I have the right to say it, but I- I had a daughter" I finally whispered the words, saying them out loud for the first time in my life. I felt her head lift and look at me. Her questioning eyes asked for the rest of the story.

"I was pregnant about eight or nine months ago. I was so happy when I found out, even had everything planned. I was gonna start a new life for her." I spoke with a sad smile on my face, staring at the interior of the RV. "One night my boyfriend came home, drunk as always. Finding any excuse to fight. He noticed my hand on my stomach; he knew. I was just 20 weeks along at the time; I hadn't told him. Never planned to tell him." I felt her hand squeeze mine, offering me some support.

"I begged him to stop, but he kept hitting me. He wanted to kill my baby, and he did."

I swallowed hard, wiping away a tear before pulling my shirt off my shoulder. I showed Carol the angel tattoo on the back of my left shoulder—small crown, cracked wings, flowers growing through them.

"She's always with me."

Carol spoke for the first time, "What was her name?"

"Nadia," I said. "It means hope."

Carol simply nods; she doesn't say anything and doesn't do anything, like she's frozen in time. Her body is aging, but her mind has stopped processing past her daughter's death.