Daryl Dixon x OFC
Tragedy after tragedy leaves Violet Graves to fend for herself in a world where the dead roam free. Violet is no stranger to living in hell but the apocalypse is another beast entirely. After encountering a group of survivors, and...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Violet
The few days following the group dinner were a bit all over the place. I had been feeling a lot better and had started helping out around the farm. I was getting to know everyone and was starting to feel like I actually had a place with them.
Granted, my place ended up being boring farmwork like collecting eggs, feeding chickens and helping with the laundry. They even had me try my hand at cooking, despite my numerous warnings, and it was nothing short of a disaster.
Rick mostly had me shadowing Maggie and Beth, much to my dismay. Don't get me wrong, Maggie and Beth were great, we were actually getting along really well, it was just the work that made me want to blow my brains out.
I wasn't used to doing such domestic, uneventful tasks. My childhood was nothing short of chaotic and turbulent so I guess I had just gotten used to constantly being in high stress situations that required me to be on alert. I think that was why when I turned 18, and became an adult, I chose to teach hand to hand combat.
Yeah, part of it was because it was one of the only things I was really good at, but I think the main reason was that my home life had suddenly become stable and calm for the first time ever, and in some weird, twisted way, I missed the chaos. I missed being in high-stress situations that I had grown so accustomed to and I realized that type of mundane and monotonous life made me jittery and agitated.
I had tried to get in on watch duty, explaining to Rick that I was a damn good fighter and knew my way around a gun but he insisted I keep it up with the boring crap. He said it was because he wanted to make sure I was feeling one hundred percent before he put me anywhere that could lead to a fight. I thought that was bullshit quite frankly, he hadn't seen me fight so he didn't know I could do more than hold my own.
Plus, all these dull tasks were making me a bit edgy. I was itching for some excitement. Sometimes I wondered if I was a bit fucked in the head for craving chaos. Maybe I was but that wasn't my fault, I blame childhood trauma.
It wasn't long for the universe to answer my thoughts in that nasty, cruel way it always did. Somehow, a walker had made its way onto the farm and in the darkness of the night had torn poor Dale's abdomen to shreds.
He was out on the field alone and by the time we all reached him, he didn't stand a chance. I didn't know him well, as it had only really been a week since I joined the group, but he had always been kind to me.
He felt like the grandfather figure of the group and seemed to provide everyone with a lot of emotional support and guidance. He had strong principles and I respected him for not sacrificing any of them, even in times like these.
It was hard to watch him while he laid on the grass, his stomach torn apart. It was difficult watching him suffer. Rick tried to put him out of his misery, to end his suffering, but couldn't. It was Daryl who ended up pulling the trigger.
