Lost Too Much 【REDONE】 ║ Daryl/OC or Shane/OC

Chapter 107: I'm the merciful one.

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(13-002 AV --- 4,747 AV) In a similar way to yesterday's entry, all of my free time has left me thinking. And thinking about Chad made me think about Denise. So... here we are.

Dear Denise,

I'm sorry for what Chad did to you. You'd tell me it's not my fault, but I know the truth. He killed you because you wanted to risk waiting for me. You didn't want to leave me behind when shit hit the fan, and Chad didn't like that. Realistically, it's all on him, but I still feel like you'd be here if not for that.

And I'm sorry we couldn't stop him. I wasn't his only victim. You and me, we were hardly close, but we had things in common. We both knew he was a monster. If only we could've put a stop to it before it was too late.

I do wish you were here sometimes. I wish you could see Michelle and me. I like to think you'd be proud. And I know Michelle would love to see you being a grandmother to our kids. I'm not even sure if you knew Michelle was pregnant. I just know that you deserved to be happy as much as we did. I wish I could've done something.

I hope you found peace. I really, really hope so. You may not have been the best mother to me but you did your best. I know you had the right intentions and I know you would've put a stop to Chad if you could. That's all I could really ask for from you.

Rest in peace, Denise.

-CJ
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I was quick as I trekked the hall to Clark's apartment. Though we still had a little bit of time until we were leaving town, I didn't wish to waste time I could spend making sure my people were ready. Clark and Julia were at the top of that list. Julia was our only newborn and I had to make sure she had everything she'd need once we left. This was also my chance to say goodbye to Michelle, Bella, and Devon for what would possibly be the last time.

Every thought of leaving this place dropped from my brain when I turned the corner to the apartment. The door was open --- not just cracked but busted wide open. The splintered wood of the door frame was evidence of that. Beyond the door, the living room was trashed. It looked like a tornado had hit the place. Furniture was upturned, a mirror shattered. A plant had been thrown across the room.

I heard rustling in front of me and it filled me with fear. Had I just interrupted a robbery? Or was this something way worse?

I crept forward, peeking in a little further to see if the sound and movement were coming from a friend or a foe. I immediately recognized the flannel he wore as Clark's, flooding me with relief once I was assured I hadn't just snuck up on a stranger destroying their home. That relief was short-lived, though, because it still meant someone had done this.

Clark was searching the room frantically, so panicked I could see it with his back turned to me. There was no sound of crying, no other voices in the apartment. It seemed like it was just him home.

"Son of a bitch!" he hissed. He swung at the wall, punching his hand straight through the cheap material.

"What the hell happened?" I said back, though judging by the way he whipped around to look at me, he must not have realized I was here. His fist was raised at first, ready to fight, but once he realized who I was, he let his arm drop back to his side.

"Thank God," he gasped, rushing toward me. He threw his arms around me before I even had the chance to process what was happening.

I returned his hug before repeating myself. "What happened here?"