Something Missing [Daryl Dixon Love Story]

Chapter Fifteen

AN: here's that other update I owed you! What do you think? Daryl and Emma aren't exactly hitting it off are they? Let me know your thoughts on the chapter! Thanks!

~TWT

Chapter Fifteen

Daryl Dixon was furious. He'd been so close to losing it back there. He wanted to hit her. She didn't know him. She didn't know his mother. She- Damn it!

"I should've just killed her the first time I got the chance. Stupid stuck up bitch!" He spat furiously as he walked.

He stopped when he thought he heard a scream behind him. He looked around and didn't see anyone. He was about to start walking again when he heard her.

"Please, help me!" She screamed. He knew she was begging him. They were too far in for anyone else to hear.

He was torn between helping and not. She didn't deserve his help, she hadn't earned it and she definitely wasn't his friend.

He looked towards her scream and the way back to camp. He could do it. He could just leave and pretend he didn't hear her.

He was about to do it when he thought of the little girl back at the camp. He'd heard what she said once her mom woke up.

'I trusted them because I didn't want you to fucking die! I didn't want to be all alone again!'

Maybe she wasn't her mom. The way she said it it seemed like she was alone once... Had they just met? What was that bitch to the little girl? He didn't want to be responsible for the little girl losing a parent, but was that their relationship?

"Damn it, Daryl. Make up your mind." He scolded himself.

What would he decide?

He wasn't coming was he? I was going to die. I wasn't ready to be done with my life. I was still useless. I hadn't fixed anything.

I deserved to die but I needed a second chance. I couldn't die like this, not now.

I looked at the corpse that was trying to take a bite out of me. My eyes found it's and I couldn't stop looking at them.

The scene seemed to slow considerably. "Who were you?" I asked. My head was cloudy. It confused me. What was happening? Slowly the face of the corpse transformed before me. It wasn't the same. This face wasn't welcome. It was the face that visited me in my nightmares every night. It was him, he was back.

My fear turned to rage. My cowardice turned to strength. He wouldn't beat me. I owed this bastard death. His death.

The hand that held the corpse's head inched closer to its eyes. Inflict as much damage as possible. Even the small things can help me.

My thumb found the jelly-like substance that was the corpse's eye. It sunk in. Yellow oozed over my finger as it pushed further an further.

"Die!" I screamed and began to squirm again.

My struggle continued. My head was getting foggier. No! This can't happen! Not now! Not now!

The edges of my vision began fading into blackness.

It was overwhelming my mind. I wouldn't be able to hold on for much longer. I was losing it. Why was this happening so often now? Was I losing my mind completely?

Darkness. My arms dropped but the struggle didn't seem necessary. Did it leave? Was I safe? Or was I dead? Had it beaten me?

I felt lighter, like I were flying. I was dead, wasn't I?