Estella Brandy, a strong, brave six year old girl that was left alone to die in the apocalypse by her mother. Thinking that she wouldn't be able to survive with a child, she took off in the middle of the night and left Estella alone. However, Daryl...
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CHAPTER THIRTY THREE !
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DARYL HAD ENDED UP in a small wooden cabin that reminded him way too much of his old home, with beth. they had been together for a mere three days. all those three days, daryl was trying his hardest not to think about estella. the way he knew she was dead, and he was never gonna see her again in his life. he was never going to see his daughter ever again.
he knew there was a reason he didn't want children in the first place. especially not in a world like this. you could lose them, and your heart would be broken in a way that nobody had ever felt in their lives. he didn't know how anybody could have children in this world and be comfortable with it when this is what waited around the corner.
he would never see her little curls bouncing around as she walked happily with a hop in her step, or have her tease him about a bunch of different stuff. or hear her laugh again. he would never be able to tell her that she was okay again when she was worried, or sit her on his hip when she seemed comfort. he would never be able to hear her laugh again, the sweet laugh that was a mix between a giggle and a loud wheeze.
he would never be able to hear her voice again, her raspy like voice despite being so young. the best way he could describe her voice was that she kind of sounded like an eight year old boy. there was no way to really explain it, but she just didn't sound like she looked like she'd sound.
that didn't matter, though, because he was never gonna hear it again. her voice would turn into a vivid memory.
beth wanted to find alcohol, and in all honesty - daryl could use something to take away the pain for a little while. they searched around a while trying to find some drink until they hit the jackpot in the cabin finding tons of moonshine.
beth sat in front of him at the other end of a small coffee table, her drink in front of her. daryl rested against the run down sofa, his drink resting in front of him on the table, too.
"so first, i say something i've never done, and if you have done it, you drink. if you haven't, i drink." beth explained the rules of a drinking game. "then we switch. you really don't know this game?"
"i ain't never needed a game to get lit before." daryl replied.
"wait, are we starting?" she asked.
daryl looked at the blonde suspiciously. "how do you know this game?"
"my friends played. i watched. okay, i'll start. i've never shot a crossbow. so now you drink." beth said, looking at him.
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