Farmer's Daughter (Daryl Dixon Love Story)

Chapter 54

Melinda's POV

The sun peeks through the curtains, leaving light to dance on my face. I turn over and stretch my arms out, feeling nothing but the cool fabric of the sheets.

Me eyes shoot open once I realize he's not there. I look around the room, just seeing boxes stacked on boxes. No Daryl.

I pull the covers back and slide off the bed. I grab my well worn out boots and slide them on my feet, then lace up the dirty laces. I grab my crossbow from the floor where I had laid it yesterday and walk for the door.

The house became unreasonably cold as my feet reach the top of the stairs. I ignore it and keep going.

"Daryl?" I call, my voice echoes throughout the emptiness. A chilling breeze rolls up my sleeves, causing me to look up, and see the door wide open.

"Shit." I whisper. I pull my crossbow off my shoulder and back up into the wall. I take one of the bolts from its quiver and place it in my mouth. I pull the string back until I hear the familiar click, then lay the arrow where it need be.

I slowly creep down a stair and look out of the door way, seeing nothing but dead grass and another house identical to ours. I tighten my grip on the cold metal, my feet make soft tapping noises as I go down each step.

A thud comes from the living room, just a wall lay between us. Adrenaline was pumping throughout my body. Fear coursed through my veins at the thought of what could be around the corner.

The wall soon vanished when I got halfway down the staircase. The living room was in plain sight, but no one was there.

I make it to the main floor and look around, the only visible movement was my breath as it puffed out into little clouds.

Shuffling comes from the kitchen area. I line my sights and walk in that direction.

"Come out with your hands up." My voice of authority rang in the quiet establishment. I rock back and forth on my feet, ready for whatever comes my way.

I see the shadow of a man, his hands up. The blackness grows larger as he walks closer. I take a step back to keep distance.

His body emerges, and a confused face is the first thing I see.

"Dammit Daryl." I lower my weapon and take a breath. "You scared the shit out of me."

"What ye so worked up about?" He slides past me and goes into the living room.

"Well, the door was wide open. I didn't know what to think." As I speak, he closes and locks the door back.

"I brought in wood. Didn't have enough hands to close the door." He takes old newspaper from beside the fireplace and balls it up, then taking small twigs, he lays them in a teepee shape around the paper.

"Then why were you in the kitchen?" He takes a lighter from his pocket and lights the paper on fire. He softly blows on it to get it going.

"Looking for food we might have missed yesterday." He grabs larger pieces of wood and lays them with the small fire. "That'll start up good in a few minutes." He mumbles to himself.

"How'd you chop the wood?" I take a seat on the sofa across from him.

"Ye are full of questions this morning." He sighs. "They got a shed in the back. It had an axe. Found some small stuff and cut it down. And now we're here. Got any other questions?" I frown at his rudeness.  

"I guess not." We sit in uncomfortable silence for a moment. "So what are we going to do today?" He looks up at me for a moment before answering.

"I'm going hunting. There's gotta be something out there. Yer gonna stay here." He stands to his feet and situates his bow.

"Wait, what am I supposed to do here?" I ask in shock.

"I don't know. Go through all these fucking boxes or something." He shrugs off.

"Why can't I go hunting? Just go in the opposite direction of you? More ground gets covered. Might even see something that leads us to Rick and the others." I try to persuade him. He takes a moment to think before shaking his head.

"Just stay here. I won't need to go find yer ass if ye get lost." He walks to the door and opens it. "I'm serious, stay here. I'll be back before night fall."

He steps out the door and closes it gently. I stare at the door for a second, then quickly run to it and sling it open.

"Daryl!" I call from off the porch. He's at the road by now, but he turns and looks at me expectantly. I think of what I want to say, I have the perfect opportunity. I could tell him now. I could tell him how much he means to me.

"Be safe." I decide instead. He nods his head and turns away. I cross my arms in frustration, but then feel a stinging pain in my left.

I go back in the house and lock the door. I think of the last time I had changed the bandages on my arm. It had to have been at least yesterday morning or the day before that.

I slide my arm out of Daryl's jacket and examine the yellowed color of the bandage. I silently begin to panic at the thought of it being infected.

"Fuck." I whisper. I shakily start to unwrap the bandage from the wound. It sticks to my skin from dry puss and blood.

Slowly it peels from my skin to reveal a scabbed over dent. My heart rate slows the slightest, until I remember there are no more medical supplies.

"Dammit." The frustration seeps through me. My mind wanders, and I look to the fire place. The orange and red flames dance, and so does my imagination. I look down at my arm, then back to the fire.

I snap my mind back into place once I realize how painful it would be to literally melt my skin.

I shudder at the thought, moving then into the kitchen in search for alcohol.

Many boxes were lined along the wall. One labeled 'pots and pans'. I slide that box to the side to view the next option. 'Plates and bowls' was on another. I went through various boxes, all labeled with similar things, but no alcohol.

"Where the hell would it be?" I look around me and spot brown cardboard boxes in the living room by the fireplace. A grin etches across my face as I take long strides to the first box.

'Living room items' was what the side said. I ripped the tape from the sides and opened the flaps. Inside were two side table lamps. I push the box over, having no need for it. The next box had the same writing on the side. Once ripping the box open, I find small clear glasses, along with a silver tray you would place alcoholic beverages on.

"Getting closer I guess." I slide over to the next box, hoping I can cease my search after this one.

The tape comes off with a tug. Once seeing the contents of the box I become half confused and half joyful.

"Who puts pictures in a box with alcohol?" I ask myself. I shake my head at the ridiculous question and take out a bottle that was filled with an oak brown liquid.

A picture falls in the box, startling me slightly. I look down and pull out one of the many framed pictures. My eyes land on what appears to be a big blur, but then the image clicks in my brain. Tears sting my eyes as I look down at the black and white image.

Writing was on the side of the picture, saying '32 weeks'. In the center there was a circle, the arrow pointing to it said 'left foot'. Another circle, it read 'hand'. But what broke me was in the very top right corner,

Male.

A/N

Okay this sucks ass. And the ending is probably confusing but what happened was is she was looking for alcohol to clean her arm and she found an ultrasound picture that was a boy.

Next chapter will explain a little more.

I haven't been updating because I went on vacation and then school started up right when I got back, so it's been very stressful and I've been trying to get a hand on things. Probably isn't really a good excuse but it's what I have :(... I haven't forgotten about you lovely babies.

I love y'all and I'm sorry it took so long. I'll try to make it more regular.

-Melinda