You don't control me, Dixon

➌ 77- Stutters of The Past is Still The Truth

♤

It was a couple of hours later when Hershel set the bloody rag to the side and started to disinfect the extensive wounds, shifting on his foot at times to reach from his stool he got half an hour ago.

The group, as far as the could starting discussing the current events, at times pausing and the air thickens.

As he dabs the fabric, I bite into the soft flesh of the top of my wrist. Once the stinging is gone, I release and grunt to Beth something, she places the belt in my mouth.

A wave washes over me like a drug, the energy of not passing from shock catching up.

In a pain filled gaze, the hours fly, people yelling for my ears not to catch, violent hand movements, and people leaving and reappearing like magic.

Soft tapping rouses me and I lift my head off of the leather vest, the cross stitching if the wing no longer pressing into my cheek like a tattoo.

Hershels face appears out of the fuzz of sleep and he speaks softly as I take the belt out of my mouth, a nice indentation of my teeth able to be seen "I'm going to need you to be awake for this next part so rest up, you're dead on your feet honey."

I groan and flop my head on the vest, inhaling the sharp smell of male perspiration and the distinct smell of Daryl. My eyes fluttering shut with the throbs of my back.

♤

With a loud and earth-shattering sound of concrete breaking, I jolt up, yelping as I look around. The only light showing was from the bottom of what seems to be a door.

I push my feet to the floor, this is real. I push my hands to the thing I'm sitting on. Cold and lifeless.

A shiver runs down my spine. Looking around I fumble in the dark till my hand reaches a wall, I reach out with my other hand and touch the other wall.

Arm width and cold, dark and. By my back-

I sit back down, I touch my hair, long and past my shoulders. The stringy damaged hair sticking out in every which way.

I touch my cheeks and they have no padding. My stomach clenches with hunger, a soft sound vibrating through me like a jolt.

Closing my eyes despite the darkness and allow my body to topple sideways.

The sound of clanging and yells only make the truth harder.

I'm in my closet.

Daddy's going to come in soon. He's going to get the fire poker and close what his friend caused.

I lazily open my eyes, blinking hard as tears fill my eyes. Of course, it was a dream. A want to be more important than I am. But in truthfulness, I'll be nothing, am nothing.

I'm nothing, just like daddy said, but Alec-

Alec? Doctor sir, why-

Apparently, you remember all the faces you have ever seen in your life. But I didn't know most of those peoples faces.

They were all new, strangers with strange voices.

And the doctor, I remembered his name. I never remember his name.

A rapid sound of gunshots echoes through me.

Gunshots?

I close my eyes and an older mama falls, her dark hair sprawled around her, blood slowly seeping out.

I cover my ears, mama is laying over me, her dead eyes darker than usual and more rapid gunshots around me.

A scream unexpectedly rips from my lips with no correlation between the events "DARYL!"