Barely Surviving // TWD // Daryl Dixon #Wattys2016

Chapter XXXVII -- Forbidden

"Don't make people control your life,

People only care about themselves.

Live your life with happy and ignore Sick people."

― Al-Hanouf Halawi

I woke up later than I intended, it was already very dark and people had already eaten dinner and Michonne was kind enough to save me some dinner and brought the plate all the way to my cell.

"Hey," she said to me as she walked in. "Brought you some dinner."

"Thanks," I said smiling as I took the bowl from her.

It was canned soup. I sat up straight in my bed and started eating as Michonne sat at the bottom of my bed, crossed-legged. The room was pretty dark but luckily some moonlight lightened it a bit.

"Your mum is still not happy you went on that run and with Daryl," Michonne told me in a low tone, I just shook my head at her.

"I don't know what's up with her, she didn't use to mind where I went before," I said shrugging. "And maybe she's jealous, I remember she used to follow Daryl around the farm, never paid too much attention to that, though."

"Maybe she's just scared," Michonne told me. "She already lost you once, thought you were dead, she doesn't want to go through that again, you should give her a chance."

"I am trying." I sighed. "I thought things were going to be better between us and at times they truly are, like when Teresa was dying but most of the time things are just as bad or even worse than before, I guess there is still a lot of tension between us."

"Why is that?" Michonne asked, I sighed at her.

I looked at her, sighed again and looked down, seeing my half-empty bowl of soup now. I didn't want to talk about it but I knew Michonne did care and wouldn't use it against me in the future or even pity me, which I hate, I hate people pitying me. So, I told her about our lives before all of this, told her about my abusive father and my weak mother and even told her about me getting Taekwondo and self defence classes and learning how to shoot to defend myself, thing only Daryl knew, until now, and of course I didn't got into much detail with Michonne.

"So you knew how to shoot before everything went to hell?" she asked me.

"Yeah, pretty much."

"You know, it might not make you feel better but sometimes things happen to us and we may think they are bad but they really aren't," Michonne told me. "Like once there was this guy who broke his leg and couldn't work and stuff and he really thought it was bad but a few months later he wasn't chosen to go to war because of his leg, so what happened to him at first might seem unfortunate but it saved his life."

"What are you trying to say?"

"That maybe if you wouldn't have been hit by your father you wouldn't have learnt how to use a gun and you might have been dead by now, everything happens for a reason," Michonne told me, looking directly to my eyes. "It was horrible what happened to you and I don't wish it on anyone and I'm glad it's over but maybe you were supposed to live through this hell of a world and if you hadn't gone through that you wouldn't be this tough, Cici, it's a nice way to see it."

"You might be right," I said shrugging. "I always wanted to find a reason why he did it, why it happened to me. Always wondered what I did to deserve such lousy parents, such a miserable childhood, and I agree your theory is a nice way to see it and so far it has been the only reason I've found so I'll kept it until I find another one."

"How did he die?"

"He was half eaten by walkers about three months after everything began. That day he slapped me really hard and I fell," I told her, remembering that for the first time since we left the farm. "My head hit a rock and I got a concussion, I was out for hours. I was told he stayed in the tent because this other man beat the shit out of him and he couldn't face the people like that and later the camp was invaded by walkers and they ate a lot of him, he was a fat and tall man."