Home Is Your Heartbeat ('Home Is' Book Two - Daryl Dixon)

Chapter 5 - Photograph (Ed Sheeran)

DARYL

The afternoon sun is shining through my eyelids. But I don't wanna prise them apart.

"Five more minutes"  I whisper in contentment, reachin out to pull my Baby Girl close.

Duck my head slightly to let my lips touch her forehead. Then my nose can start to burrow its way home into her silky hair.

Except, my hands reach out blindly in thin air until my knuckles come in contact with something solid. Making a rapping sound like I'm knockin on a door.

Where the hell is my Baby Monkey?  Snuck out all quiet again, I'm bettin.

Reluctantly, I open my eyes.

I'm in a box. A padded and white, silk-lined box. Its lid is open and leanin against the wall.

A coffin....what in the fuck?

Climb out and stumble into the kitchen. Yank open a cupboard and snatch at a jar of pig's feet. Sit my ass at the table and then start stuffin my face with its first food in over three days.

Grab a bottle of soda to wash it all down with.

I stink....stink to hell of booze.

Almost drowned myself in it when I soaked that hovel in Shine. And then set it alight, using a wad of C notes as a firestarter. Watched it burn until some Walkers came for a look-see.

Fuck it....fuck it all.

Was still half-lit when I stumbled across this place late last night. Set back a ways from the cemetery.

Must've once been home to the undertaker? Cos there were bodies laid out in the basement mortuary, forever waitin to be prepped.

Searched through the rest of the house. Found some Tylenol and washed down about ten tablets. Had me one hell of a hangover, so I collapsed in the open coffin.

Softest bed I'd slept in for an age.

I let out a huge belch and glance around me some.

The place is freakin me out a fair bit. Not because of what it was....but more because of how  it is now. Not a speck of dust, the whole joint is as neat as a pin. Cupboard stocked with foodstuffs. And the only footprints on the polished floors?

Are mine.

Nah!  Have had myself enough....feels like it's some kinda trap.

Take another couple of tablets and then start searchin once more. Spot an empty backpack in a hallway cupboard. Stash away some of the food before returning to the viewing room and grabbing my rig.

Awwww....SHIT!  Must've knocked it somehow? One of the arrows is all split to hell.

I snap it in half and throw the broken pieces into the coffin.

Runnin low. Gonna have to find a new supply of them or try and make myself more, somehow.

*

Keep walkin until the moon is rising high up in the night sky. With no idea as to where I'm heading now.

Eventually, I fall on my butt....plumb exhausted. Near some rail tracks on a siding, about fifty yards from the road I'd been stumblin along.

Thanks to the thumpin in my head? I don't even hear it comin. Not until it's almost parallel to where I'm sittin.

A large, dark saloon roared right on past....goin sixty an hour at least. The headlights are off, so they won't have even seen me.

They must know the road real well? Cos even I  wouldn't ride my bike that fast in the dark nowadays.

It didn't come back.

The whole night, I sat there on my ass with my head hangin and bangin. Might've dozed off a couple of times. But I just kept on sittin there. Half hopin to be Walker bait.

When there's enough light, I heave out a sigh of defeat. And retrieve it from the inner pocket of my vest.

She had one too, but it was different. Put them in little plastic slips and kept hers by our bed, when we weren't out of the prison.

I have mine on me....always.

Glenn took them on that big old instant camera of his. You know....those ones that print out the picture as soon as it's taken?

Always hated havin photos taken at school. Momma had a few of me and Merle, some of her and the ol' man in their early days. But none of us all together.

Wipe my hands clean before I take it out. But they shake so bad? I drop it over and over before it finally sits safely in my palm.

"Don't do this to yerself, Dumbass! Ain't yer fuckin dyin enough already?"  I growl at myself.

Yet I just can't help it. Need to see her face again. Remember that she's real....was  real. And remember that she was mine and I was hers too.

Had myself a bit more than five minutes of lovin, in heaven with my angel. But now? My time in hell is back.

Open my eyes and peer at it.

Was only a couple of months after we were married....properly  married by Hershel.

She was perched at a table bench in the prison courtyard, busily sortin out seed packets. Had snuck up behind and for the first time ever? She didn't hear me.

My silently laughing lips smooched the side of her neck. Makin her jump and squeak in fright, like a little mouse.

Used my knife and slit the band holding up her ponytail. Sat my ass down on the table in front of her and pulled her face to mine by her hair.

Then I kissed my missus like a fuckin madman.

Loved seein her blush, when I did things like that now and then. Where anyone could've seen us.

Didn't give a shit.

Mine!

Had just been holdin her afterwards when Glenn came up and took the first photo....hers. And when she turned around to see what was goin on? He took this one.

I was still sittin on the table behind her. While she was tucked in between my legs. Had my hands clasped over her belly as I looked down at her. Stupid and soppy damn grin on my face  🥴

One of her hands was on mine. The other had reached back and curled around my neck....fingers twirling my hair.

She was looking dead straight at the camera. With eyes full of violets and her mouth slightly open as if she were gettin ready to laugh.

"Well....lookit here. That sure is the prettiest little gal I ever done seen in my whole life!"

The voice came from above. And I counted the boots of about six men as they began to spread themselves out around me.

When his hand reached down to take the photo? I sprang up and slugged him a good one.

NO ONE IS EVER GONNA TOUCH MY BABY BUT ME!

Got my bow on him at the same time his men brought theirs to bear at my head.

"Claiming his vest"  Another voice chipped in from behind.

"Now hold up, boys."

Didn't move my aim from him as he wiped the blood from his nose. Laughing like a hyena while climbing to his feet.

"A bowman? Well, I sure do respect that. Man with a rifle? Coulda been anyone back in the day. But a bowman will always be a bowman....through and through."

"C'mon, feller. Suicide is stupid. Why hurt yourself when you can hurt other people? Name's Joe."

"Daryl"  I grunt, lowering my rig.

The man was lookin me square in the eyes....so I gotta respect that right back.

Joe just kept on noddin as his men lowered their weapons too.