Till Death Do Us Part: A Daryl Dixon Story (The Walking Dead)

1

With tears streaming from my eyes, I wrenched open my drawers and yanked out my neatly folded clothes. I threw them in one huge bundle in a small red suitcase. I'd only packed the minimum: underwear, socks, some jeans and a few shirts. I thought he'd changed. I thought he'd actually listened to me and left his brother's 'business', but of course I was wrong. I should've known that the day when I said 'I do' that he wouldn't mean it. I cursed at myself for my ignorance. My husband would dutifully follow his brother wherever he went and stand by whatever he did. I quickly packed my toiletries in a small bag and jammed it in the suitcase. I zipped it closed and began to get the hell out of that small crummy apartment. I stopped next to the beat down sofa- a figure leaned against the door with a beer bottle in his hand.

'Just where do you think yer going darlin'?' He asked as he took a swig of his beer.

'Away from you.' I said with steely confidence.

He laughed; a throaty sound that made my blood boil. 'You really think ima let you leave?'

'You have no say in this.' I retorted

He stopped laughing and shot me a confused look. 'Excuse me? Did I hear this bitch right?'

I breathed in shakily and waited for him to continue.

'Cos it sounds like she just said that my baby brother's business ain't got nothing to do with me. Well ain't that something.' He chucked his beer bottle to the side and the glass shattered, causing me to jump. He laughed at my reaction, and inched forward until he stood directly in front of me.

'You scared doll?' He whispered. His breath reeked of alcohol. His eyes were glazed. It was times like these when the brothers' use of narcotics really spooked me.

'Leave me alone,' I whispered, my heart thumping in my throat.

'Now why would I do that?' He traced a grubby finger down my cheekbone. He roughly clasped my jaw and forced me to look at him. I wouldn't give him that pleasure, forcing my eyes anywhere in the room besides him.

'Look at me,' He said softly.

My eyes were fixed on the vomit green coloured carpet. All my confidence had since slipped away.

'Look at me!' He yelled, some of his saliva landing on my forehead. I let out a low whine, my lips twitching from trying to hold back my cries. I finally gave in and stared at him straight in his eyes. I gasped a little when I saw nothing but drunken lust. His chapped lips came crashing down onto mine.

'Stop!' I tried to scream out, but as soon as my mouth opened I felt his slimy tongue slam inside. The sensation was revolting. I banged my fists against his chest and tried to squirm out of his tight grip. My fighting back just seemed to encourage him more, as his hands snaked down my back and rested on my behind, pulling me closer into him. I rendered all my strength possible and in a very quick movement, I drew back my fist and it connected against his cheek. I didn't think it was that hard, but he stumbled back and tripped over the cheap coffee table. He lay there for a while, groaning and rubbing his head which he had hit hard on the carpeted floor. He was muttering cusses when I decided this was my chance to quickly leave. I picked up my suitcase and dashed past his figure. I felt a rough hand clasp around my ankle and I tripped. I whined again as I realised there was no escaping him. I tried to kick against him, but he somehow dodged them. I crawled forward but his grip tightened and he crawled on top of me. I was genuinely trapped. I let the tears flow, accepting what was about to happen. I felt a sharp sting of pain in my lower abdomen, causing me to wince.

'Aw I ain't even hurt you yet.' He said as he twisted me around. Our gazes met, and I saw my fear in his eyes.

The stinging pain escalated, forcing me to shut my eyes. When I reopened them, I saw a big burly fist headed my way. When his punch connected, the pain in my abdomen worsened and my face stung. He punched me in my stomach and chest so many times, I couldn't even keep count. I felt the sea of black fast approaching, and nothing could've made me happier. I willingly closed my eyes, hoping and praying that the darkness would take me soon. I felt his thick fingers close around my throat and I gasped for air, my eyes feeling like they were about to pop. He had a maniac smile on his face. He let go of my throat and stood up, wiping his brow like I'd just given him a good work out.