Cherokee Roses {Daryl Dixon's Daughter}

f o u r t e e n

When the sun rises in the morning, I'm still awake. I don't think anyone got any sleep after last night. We're having a funeral for Dale and Rick is speaking. 

"Dale could get under your skin, he sure got under mine." He says hoarsely. "It's cause he wasn't afraid to say exactly what he thought, how he felt. That kind of honesty is rare, and brave." 

Once again, we're standing around the graves mourning for those we've lost. In only just a few days, our small group has gotten smaller. Rick is looking towards the freshly dug grave that Dale now rests in. 

"Whenever I'd make a decision-- I'd look at Dale." Rick says now turning his head towards the group. "He'd be looking back at me with that look he had. We've all seen it, one time or another. I couldn't always read him, but he could always read us. " 

The crisp air of the morning makes the moment even more gut wrenching. The sunrise is beautiful and makes me think of all the times I saw Dale sitting on top of the RV watching the sun rise or set.

"He saw people for who they were. He knew things about us-- The truth, who we really are." He continues. "In the end, he was talking about losing our humanity. He said 'this group was broken'. The best way to honor him is to unbreak it."

Rick is right. It's what Dale would want, he cared for everyone in this group and only wanted what was best. 

"Set aside our differences and pull together, stop feeling sorry for ourselves and take control of our lives, our safety, our future." Rick is being a leader, he's finally taking control of everyone and he's not looking for Shane's opinion. "We're not broken. We're gonna prove him wrong. From now on, we're gonna do it his way. That is how we honor Dale." 

We stand in a moment of silence. Soaking up what Rick said while also mourning our friend. What Rick said was true and this is how we will honor Dale.

____

Later on we start loading supplies into Hershel's home. I sit in the back of a pickup truck, my feet dangling off of the bed of the truck.

"Gonna be tight, 14 people in one house." Rick tells Hershel, almost as if he's questioning the older man. 

"Don't worry about that." Hershel tells him. "with the swamp hardening, the creek drying up-"

"With 50 head of cattle on the property, might as well be ringing the damn dinner bell." Maggie interjects.

"She's right." Hershel agrees with his daughter, "we should've moved you in a while ago."

Rick starts spewing instructions and I hop off the truck bed grabbing an old milk crate full of supplies and placing it in the truck. After that I grab my sleeping-bag, blankets, backpack, crossbow and begin the trek to the house.   

One of my blankets falls from my grasp and before I can pick it up again, I see Carl hand it back to me. He doesn't make eye contact and doesn't say a word. 

"Thanks." I mutter and he nods before walking off. 

Somethings up with him I decide that I'll ask later considering he probably still needs to cool off. After setting my things in the space dad and I will be sleeping in, I take a look around. 

Things are going to get crowded. There's no doubt about it as I watch everyone bustle about bringing everything in. 

"Cheri, come here." Beth says grabbing my hand and pulling me into her room. 

"Oh god." I say knowing exactly what she's going to say.

"So did anything happen?" She asks.

"Yeah, he's acting weird and rude and immature." I huff crossing my arms. 

Now that I think about it; he's been acting this way ever since he got shot. Apparently he was even being rude to Carol and said something about Sophia. 

"Oh," Beth says. "have you asked him why yet?" 

"No," I roll my eyes. "If I do he'll probably tell me to piss off." 

"Go talk to him, you should do it sooner than later." She advises me.

"Yeah sure, I'm gonna go find my dad." I say. "I'll talk to you later okay?"

"Okay." She gives me a smile and I leave. 

I don't have to go far to find dad. He's sitting on the porch railing talking to Rick about the plan for Randall. I stay at the front door listening as he leaves and Shane approaches asking about Carl. 

"Look, he came to me." Shane says. "Okay, I wasn't supposed to say anything, but he was out in the swamps yesterday and he came across a walker stuck in the mud, he got scared- ran off."

"The same walker that killed Dale?" Rick asks.

Thats when it clicks. That's why Carl was acting weird this morning. I exit the house pretending like I wasn't listening and head off in the direction that I believed Carl went in. 

"Where you going Cherokee?" Rick asks me. 

"Uh- I think I left my hairbrush back at my old campsite." I say making up a lie. It's a terrible one and it's apparent that I haven't brushed my hair in days. 

"Listen; be careful and if you see Carl tell him I'd like to have a word with him." Rick says not moving from his spot on the porch. 

"Uh yeah, sure thing!" I say running off before he can question anything else. I find Carl on a bale of hay. He's picking at the straw and when I approach he doesn't look up. "It wasn't your fault, you know that right?" 

"What are you talking about?" He asks as I sit in front of him.

"I know that you saw that walker in the woods." I say grabbing his hand. He looks at me with tears running down his face. "It's not your fault." 

"If I had shot it, Dale would be alive right now." Carl says. 

"It's okay, accidents happen. Who knows why Dale was out there anyways." I tell him. Suddenly his arms are around me embracing me in a hug as he cries. 

"I'm sorry about everything I've done this week." He tells me. "I shouldn't have said all of the mean things I told you. You didn't deserve any of it."

"It's okay Carl." I whisper holding him close. After a moment he lets go and wipes his face. "Your dad wanted to  talk to you, I'll talk to you later okay?" 

"Okay," He pauses before getting up. "Thank you Cheri."

I nod as I watch him go. I lay back on the hay watching the sky, during the summer dad and I would go lay in the back of his truck and just look at the stars. It was something I would look forward to every night. It's not dark out and the sun is still shining prominently but I still find it peacefull.

After a while I sit up and look towards the shed where everyone is looking for Randall who somehow is missing. I notice Shane is the only one not over there, yet when I look towards the woods he's bent over rustling around with the leaves. A moment goes by before he stands up and starts yelling for Rick.

"He's armed!" Shane shouts like a mad man. "He's got my gun!"

"Are you okay?" Carl asks him. His face is covered in blood.

"I'm fine but the little bastard snuck up on me." He's lying, I can tell. "He clocked me in the face."  

"Get everybody back in the house." Rick instructs yelling. "Glenn, Daryl, come with us." 

Quickly I run towards my father. 

"Be careful, I saw Shane messing around in the leaves earlier." I whisper  as he begins to leave. He gives me a nod and I run to the house following the rest of the group.  

T-dog peers out the window as the sun goes down and everyone else sets up for the night. Carl is upstairs looking out the window for signs of trouble. I sit in the corner holding my crossbow tight. My bag is packed and I can't help but feel as if something will go down.

 When I hear a gunshot in the distance I hold on tighter knowing for sure something will go down.

Word Count: 1406