ANGEL FACE ➵ DARYL DIXON [2]

Chapter Fifteen: Heretofore | Part I

Chapter 15

6th January, 1993

I'm growing so fast, I'll almost be as tall as Merle! It's my birthday today. I'm finally five. Soon, I'll be fit to ride the really big rollercoasters at Goliath. I thought we would of been going today, but Mummy and Daddy haven't even got out of bed today. I watch the hands on the clock, the big hand at eleven and the small hand at three.

Our TV is broken, Daddy spilling his drink all over it. So, I'm bored sitting on the couch, fiddling with my thumbs waiting for Merle to get home from school. Or wherever he is. I didn't go because I wasn't feeling well. But, I think I'm okay again.

Tires skid outside coming to a halt, two car doors slamming and the heavy rock music coming to an end. I peek through the curtains, standing on top of an old box.

Merle and a boy I haven't seen before. He looks younger, maybe more my age. He holds a crate of beer, Merle opening a packet of cigarettes and chewing like candy. His red bandana tied around his forehead dances with the smoke, trolling up and knocking on the front door next to me.

"Open up, lil' bro! I've got some company!" Merle shouts, giving the door two more hard pounds.

My heart races, excited to see my older brother. I haven't seen him in two days. I wonder where he's been? Anyway, I open the door, immediately falling in and giving him a hug. He pats my back, playfully taking my blue pacifier from my mouth. I wail, reaching my arms up to try and get it. Merle stands on his tip toes, sticking out his tongue.

"You'll have to chase me, lil' man," he teases, but passes to the other boy instead.

He catches, looking confused and puzzled. His glare switches between me and Merle, and in the end he hands it back over to me with Merle rolling his eyes.

"Why'd ya give it back to 'im? You jus' suck at fun," Merle says annoyed, walking into our home with the boy who looks uncomfortable with the whole situation.

As usual, Merle has his head stuck in the fridge looking for something to eat, the boy setting down the crate on the coffee table that has double the scratches and chips than legs. He sits down, looking around our home like he's an art critic. And so far I think he's not impressed, especially looking over at the dry wall with a hole in it where Daddy put his foot through when he was angry.

"Who are you?" I ask with wonder, the boy snapping his sharp blue eyes over to mine.

The microwave dings in the background, Merle sucking on nicotine like it was his  appetizer.

"Kai," he says after a few seconds, "your brother wanted alcohol."

"Are you his friend?" I ask, him being too nice to be.

"No. I just needed some cash," he explains, "I stole it of my dad so I could sell at school."

"Stealing is naughty," I frown, and I hear Merle scoffing behind me.

"You've got a lot to learn, Daryl," he informs, grabbing a plastic fork for his lasagna, "gotta do naughty things in this world to rise above."

"What if I don't want to?"

"Then go fuck yourself."

Merle stabs his hot food, gorbing it down in less than a minute like it was the first time ever eating. Kai looks on edge.