𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐒 ❖ DARYL DIXON

19. DONT DRIVE IN THE RAIN

EVEN WITH RICK'S WHOLE IDEA of following his way of things within a strict set of rules, living at the lakehouse had been easy enough. It was a harrowing winter, filled with snow that was heavy and trapped everyone in the house for a moment of time.
But it was turning from early winter to late winter now, and Lori's pregnancy was currently going smoothly. She was a good few months in, and she really looked like a pregnant woman now. Big ass belly and everything.

The only thing that irked Rick now, was the Orla and Paul Quinn, with their unnecessary commentary, their useless opinions and their rude behavior. Ever since the first night Freya woke up, and dinner was served, things had been tense.

And when the idea for a joined dinner again came to mind, Rick instantly declined. But after the begging done by his son and Nate, Rick gave in for once and the group Freya was slowly starting to see in a new, brighter light was allowed to go have dinner.

And it went just as badly as the first dinner did; if not, then worse.

"Shush, darling, just who was that little girl you were friend with?" Orla asked, squinting her eyes as she tried to remember. "She's was very small for her age."

"Juanita?" Freya asked, she could remember that young girl, and she often wondered if she, and everyone else Freya once knew might be alive. Hell, if her neighbor Murphy is Boston was still alive, she'd jump on that.

"No, not the immigrant." Orla scoffed, and rolled her eyes to her husband.
"Oh, uh." Freya blinked, shocked by the words. "Juanita wasn't an immigrant-."

"Dakota! Yes, yes, yes, now I remember her name!" Orla clicked her finger and smile grew at her face. Freya went silent instantly, and those that already new the fate of poor Dakota went silent at Orla's happiness to recall her name. "She was a tragic little thing, wasn't she?"

"Mom." Freya couldn't look at anyone. She didn't want to look at them. She felt like a child all over again, trying tog et her mother to listen to her, but was there ever a time Freya could recall a time that this ever worked.

"Her father would've never been able to raise such a thing on his own, single parents I'm telling you..." Orla glanced at Carol, eyeing the woman as her daughter. "Yes..."

"I think that we should see some flowers in bloom soon." Hershel tried to change the subject. He may have been drunk when Freya told him the story, but that didn't mean he didn't remember it. Hell, how could someone just forget about that.

Annie shuffled in her seat, scooting closer to the man. "Yeah, I've actually seen a few ros-"

"And it was even more tragic what happened to the child, wasn't it Winifred?" Orla asked, eyeing her daughter like an eagle would eye it's prey. With cold, heartless eyes made for a predator to hunt it's prey. "Shot in the back and killed instantly...goodness, could you imagine?"

Freya blinked and tried to remain with composure. Everyone was quiet now, how else was one meant to change the subject now? Freya looked at her plate, at the knife and fork on either side of it, and the traces of what she ate left on the white circle.

"Oh!" Orla actually laughed, and covered her mouth. "Silly me, I forget you were there, Winifred. My, seeing your best friend killed like that, no wonder you went crazy...I had to send her to a camp you know!"

Orla looked to Freya's group, the people she was slowly considering a family, and Orla and telling them things Freya would have never of been able to say herself.
"She got so anger, and so rude! Gosh, she was a little nightmare...Anyways, we sent her to a camp, didn't we Paul? Yes, she ran away from it, and got lost for a few days, but we found her in the end. And whatever happened must've worked, as she was an angel! I'm telling you, I'm magic with children."