Angel

Chapter Seven: Jessie

Daryl was still sound asleep. I had woken up for some unknown reason, and as far as I could tell, it was still dark out. It could have been because my body was stiff sleeping in one position all night or it could be the man I was practically sleeping on top of. A little less than a week ago, I was on my own and determined to stay that way. I knew I was depressed and the only reason I kept on living was that I didn't want to die. Nothing was good in my world.

Now, look at me. Daryl and I have decided to partner up in this quest we had to survive. We were fighting both the dead and the living. Too many humans were just as evil and deadly as their walking dead counterparts. Daryl was proof of that with his broken ribs and abused body. That was recent. His past showed how even before the world went all wonky and sideways, that people back then were just as wicked too. Someday, I hoped he would tell me the story of the scars he bore on his chest and back. He wasn't ready yet, and I refused to push him.

I thought back to the night he had told me so much about his life and the people he thinks he lost. They were all so close that they considered themselves a family. I could tell he still mourned them and my heart went out to him. Never thought I'd care about another human being again, but here he was making me care about him when I had vowed never to do that again.

My life had been tough too but in very different ways. Scars could be just as tough to deal with when they were inside of you and not so visible to the eye. He had plenty of those too that I was certain.

During the past few days, we had come up with a routine of sorts. We ate only a small meal at breakfast and slightly larger at dinner. Our rations were getting quite low, and I needed to talk to him about going out to find more. Just yesterday, he tried to pull the string back to cock his crossbow, but he couldn't. His ribs hadn't healed enough yet, nor did the wound in his side that I had stitched up. I was going to tell him I would go alone, but I know he wasn't going to like that, so I was waiting until the last minute to tell him.

He wasn't ready to fight, and I was. If I were worried about him, it would sidetrack me from what I was doing. And if that involved killing the hungry monsters that were always attacking us and I was distracted by keeping an eye on Daryl, that would mean one or both of our deaths.

I didn't want either of us to die, not when I had just found him.

Daryl wasn't as gruff as he started out to be. He had relaxed, and I was drawn to him even more than ever. He was the rough around the edges guy I had always liked, but knew was wrong for me. He hid his compassion and emotions well but living this close to him day after day, I could see them hidden under the surface. He intrigued me like no man ever had.

The last guy I had voluntarily hooked up with was alright until he betrayed me. We got together because he seemed like a decent guy and we both had our needs. That ended the last night we were both on watch on the outskirts of our camp. He and his friends decided that sharing me would be fun. It wasn't. I had no chance against the three of them. As I lay gagged in the dirt, my shirt ripped open and my body naked from the waist down, they took turns raping me until the sun came up.

I stopped fighting them halfway through the night, but I never gave up. With every unwanted thrust inside my battered body, I plotted their deaths. Once, the sun was hovering on the horizon, they took off. I was able to untie my hands and pull the foul gag out of my mouth. I dressed as well as I could since the shirt was torn and found my way back to camp. No one said a word to me. I put a new shirt on as everyone watched. I didn't care who saw my naked breasts. Then I gathered up my meager belongings and just as I was leaving camp. I turned back to the dozen or so eyes that were on me. "Fuck you all," I told them. And that's when I started my journey on my own.