rag doll | TWD

[58] the cell

tuesday's gone --- lynyrd skynyrd

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[JJ]

I was at my lowest point. Before all this, before the dead started to be un-dead, I thought my lowest point was Shane, and then I killed Randall's brother. But even after all of that, I always saw a way out, some type of redemption- the light at the end of the tunnel.

There was no light at the end of the tunnel now. There was no saving grace. There was no getting out of it. The only way out was the way I refused to go down. Not yet anyway.

For the first night here, I called the cold, slightly-damp cell floor my bed. I'd been stripped of my dignity. There was nothing left. The men who lived on the bottom floor of the bunker, where the cells were, they were crude. I would go as far to say pure evil, not a sliver of remorse.

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flashback

This group had a cruel sense of humor. Their main joke line typically regarded women. I didn't know what was going to happen to me, to Daryl, but it wasn't good.

The place that they called home was a large factory. It had clearly been weathered over the years, but it was surprisingly still looking somewhat functional.

They had placed me in the backseat of one the trucks. The sole purpose of the man who sat beside me was to keep a gun locked on my head, in case I was to try anything. The whole ride there was agonizing. I had just seen two of my friends get beaten to death, including the father of my best friend's unborn child, the man I had become just as close friends with. He was family.

And the other. I didn't know him for near as long, but he made a lasting impression. Our talks were the deepest that I had in a long while. He knew things that not even Maggie, or my brother knew.

They were gone.

Daryl was taken.

I was taken.

We didn't sit idle in the truck for very long. I looked around for Daryl as I was led inside to where Negan had gone to.

It looked like an office...maybe a stripper's office though. There was a handful of women all wearing tight, skimpy, black dresses and at least three-inch heels.

"Ladies," Negan smiled, "would you mind giving me some time to talk with Rick's little sister?"

"JJ." I corrected.

"Excuse me?"

"My name is JJ."

"Right." Negan nodded, "JJ. Welcome to the Sanctuary. Now, I know you're probably still in shock, need a minute to catch your breath even, and I get that. I do. But I'm gonna give you a choice of a lifetime."

"Where is Daryl?"

Negan glared because of my question, sarcastically answering, "You know, that is a hell of a good question. Where is Daryl? Simon!" He was standing in the corner, waiting to be spoken to like a subordinate. "Go find Dwighty boy and tell him to bring JJ's buddy Daryl up, who don't you?"

"Sure thing." Simon agreed.

It didn't take long for Dwight to basically drag Daryl in. I almost couldn't bear to face him. His shoulder was pouring blood, his face was bruised, and they were parading him around in nothing but a thin bandage on his shoulder.

It hurt me to see him like this.

"So, JJ, now that we've miraculously found Daryl, that proposition I was mentioning earlier..."

He sarcastically motioned with his hands, "Picture this: you, my newest wife, skin-tight dress, hair, makeup, manicure, hell, I'll even throw in a martini for the trouble. Your own room, access to anything you want- you'll live like a queen."