Survival - Daryl Dixon Fanfic

peace.

It was dawn. A new day. However, we still faced the nightmare that was reality. Death surrounded us all. I tried so hard to hold it together, yet I just could not. As soon as I saw the sun peak above the trees - I took it as my chance. We were not allowed to move from the sights of Shane or Rick, until it was safe to do so. I spent the whole night listening to the heartbreaking wails of the people who recently lost the ones they loved. Every sob that Andrea let escape through her muffled cries made me feel more and more guilty. I wish it was me who was dead... not amy.

If only i had opened that RV door at that time and not her.

I grabbed one of the Glock 17 from the bag of guns, before venturing away from the group. I heard the shouts of my name. I decided not to respond. I needed space. Air. I felt like I was drowning in sorrow, guilt and fear. Slowly, suffocating. I leaned against a tree, allowing my head to fall back against the trunk. I closed my eyes as I bathed in the golden sunlight that broke the darkness of the forest. Secretly, I hoped the sunlight would wash away the blood that stained my skin.

My chest was tight. Events from last night were forever replaying. My heart was beating against the walls of my chest, as it caved in with every deep breath I took. My hands went numb as I covered my mouth to quiet my sobs. I turned around, stumbling as my vision blurred through the tears. Placing my hands against the rough tree trunk, I dragged a harsh breath through my teeth. I felt my chest become tighter. I couldn't breathe.. I couldn't do this. I cant survive.

I felt angry. Why couldn't it have been me? It should have been me. I raised my hand hitting the tree repeatedly. I was tired of - I wouldn't even call this life. I watched multiple people die. I froze. I did nothing. I'm just as evil as the rotters. I let out a painful wail. I couldn't contain them. I was broken. My body felt heavy from the sadness, I felt myself falling.

Suddenly arms wrapped around me, softly lowering me to the ground. I let myself cry in their arms. Not caring if they cut their hands on the broken pieces of myself. I needed to be held. I was completely falling apart in a world where you needed to be strong. I was weak.

"Let it out," Daryl spoke quietly, holding me close to his chest. Restrained so that I wouldn't cause any harm to myself with the flailing around I was doing before. His warm hand caressed my hair. He was trying to sooth me. I could feel my body shaking from the shock my body just went through. "Don't worry, i'm here Amalia"

Panic attacks. I started having them when I was younger. I would wake up in the middle of the night and hear loud screaming and crashes from the living room. My parents would always fight with each other. I was so scared of their arguments that one time I wet the bed at the age of 6. When my dad found out, he shouted at me. Yet, how was it my fault? They caused fear with their actions and behaviors. I became so frozen in fear that I wet myself. I was a small child who was scared.

One time at the age of 8, they both had a physical altercation. My dad left, leaving me and my mom in the apartment together. I was hidden in my closet, sobbing. It felt as if the entire world was closing in on me and I couldn't breathe. I was so scared. Soon, the closet door swung open. I ended up wetting myself again at that moment. My mom picked me up in her arms and swayed me in her arms. Hushing me. "Don't worry, I'm here baby" she muttered into my ear. Placing me in a warm bath. I saw in her eyes an angry woman who was stuck...but ready. My mom was ready to run and fight for freedom.

"Im s-sorry" I sobbed, leaning into him. I felt him let out a deep breath that he was holding in. almost as if he was too scared to breathe around me. Like I was fragile and any sudden movement would break me. I sat up, looking at him. "Thank you for being here for me"

"Panic Attacks aint good" he warily looked into my eyes. "Used to get em". A small smile was thrown my way. I eased, calming myself down. Daryl understood. He reached toward my hand, grasping it within his. Slowly he stood to his feet, pulling me up with him. I stumbled, falling into him as he held me upright. I felt him place something in my hand. Looking down, I opened my closed hand. My entire body softened. It was my dog's id tag. I wear it on a chain necklace. Holding it up, I realized the chain was broken. I felt my lip tremble as I wiped a tear from my cheek. I can't believe it's broken.