In The End | Daryl Dixon

Chapter 74: Do Not Send Us Astray

It had been several days since we returned to Hilltop, but time felt meaningless now. The world kept moving around me as if nothing had changed. People talked while they worked, children played in the distance, and every now and then I would hear laughter drifting through the community. Life continued whether we wanted it to or not.

I sat cross-legged in the grass in front of Glenn's grave, holding a folded piece of paper in my hands. My fingers traced over the creases that had formed from opening and closing it so many times. The edges were worn now, soft from constant handling. I couldn't bring myself to read it, but I couldn't bring myself to let it go either.

Carl's handwriting stared back at me.

Over the past few days, I had memorized every detail without meaning to. The way his J never quite touched the line. The curve of his y. The little flick at the end of his n. They were such insignificant details, things I never would have noticed before, but now they felt precious. They were pieces of him. Small reminders that he had been here, that he had existed, and that somehow the world expected us to keep going without him.

My throat tightened.

I hated that he had known he was dying. I hated that he had spent his final days saying goodbye while the rest of us didn't know. Most of all, I hated that he was gone.

My eyes drifted from the letter to Glenn's grave marker.

The loss of Carl had somehow reopened every wound Glenn's death had left behind. Glenn had been my best friend. He had been the person I could always count on to make me smile when things felt impossible. Whenever the world became too heavy, Glenn somehow knew how to lighten the burden. Sitting here now, I found myself wishing he were beside me. He would know what to say. He always did.

The sound of approaching footsteps pulled me from my thoughts.

I didn't have to look up to know who it was.

Daryl settled down beside me with a quiet grunt, close enough that our shoulders nearly touched. For a while neither of us said anything. We simply sat together in the silence, listening to the wind move through the trees overhead.

Eventually his gaze dropped to the letter in my hands.

"You read it?"

His voice was low and careful.

I swallowed hard before shaking my head.

"No."

The answer came out barely above a whisper.

Daryl studied me for a moment before looking back toward the fields beyond the cemetery.

"Why not?"

The question hit harder than I expected.

I stared down at the folded paper and felt tears immediately sting my eyes. For several seconds I couldn't answer. I wasn't even sure I could put the feeling into words.

"Because once I do..." My voice cracked, forcing me to stop. I took a shaky breath and tried again. "Once I read it, it makes it real."

The tears spilled over before I could stop them.

"Right now it's still just a letter. It's still Carl's handwriting. It's still something I haven't touched yet." My fingers tightened around the paper. "But once I read it, those become the last words he's ever going to say to me."

The admission broke something inside me.

I lowered my head as another tear slipped down my cheek.

"He was supposed to live, Daryl."