Dixon's Little Sister

1. The Dixons

"Dad please stop" I begged my father as he punched my older brother Daryl in the face again. His eyes were almost swollen shut and his mouth was bleeding. This has been one of the worst beatings we've ever had.

"You want me to stop there? How bout' you share the punishment" He growled. Daryl tried protesting, but his body refused to move with all the damage that had been done.

My father removed his belt from his waist and wrapped part of it around his wrist. I stood there with a worried look on my face, but the more scared you are the worse the beating will be.

"Don't you touch them" Merle growled from the top of the stairs. I looked up along with my father "Come down here boy" He demanded Merle. Merle walked down the stairs like a king, he was obviously high.

"You think you can talk to me like that?" My father scowled, standing over Merle "You can beat me all you want just keep your grubby fingers off of them" He hissed. Merle always had our backs as young kids during beatings. As we grew older we learned to share them, even me. Even though I was the youngest and the only girl in the family I still insisted on taking some of the beatings. My brothers knew that's what I wanted, and they appreciated my help.

My father backed away from Merle slowly, an evil grin spread across his face. He walked over to a badly beaten Daryl, and picked him up by his shirt roughly. Merle and I lunged at our father, trying to protect the middle child and our beloved brother. Daryl coughed up some blood, his eyelids twitching.

We eventually pulled Daryl away from our dad and carried him upstairs "I'm gonna get you guys outta here. I'll pack your stuff while you patch him up" Merle said, heading into the room Daryl and I shared. I nodded, my head pounding and my lip still bleeding.

Daryl sat on the edge of the bathroom counter when I walked in. I locked the door, then pulled out the first aid kit we hid behind the toilet and started cleaning him up.

"I'm tired of this" Daryl said lowly, his voice on the edge of breaking. I looked into his eyes as he looked up at me, emotion spread throughout his face "I just wish things were different Dawn" He sniffled, immediately ashamed of the emotion he was showing "We all wish things were different Dare, but Merle is gonna get us outta here. And don't worry about showing emotion, we're all human, without it we're not healthy" I explained, gently brushing the single tear that fell from his swollen eye away "Let's fix you up and get outta here" I said "I love ye Dawn" Daryl said, his rough voice wobbling "I love ya too Daryl"

***

"Dawn you comin' huntin'?" Daryl asked me from our tent "Ye, be there in a sec" I murmured as I tied my long, dark brown hair up in a ponytail.

Welcome to the zombie apocalypse.

Nowadays we're surrounded by flesh-eating corpses and are not treated to the things we used to take for granted back a little bit ago; internet, showers, television, power, education...it's all gone.

I walked out of the tent Daryl and I shared with Merle. We were with a group at the moment but we didn't plan on staying long.

"I hope these damn people know how much we're going through just to feed them" I muttered. Daryl grunted

"They ain't never gon' realize how much we do for em" He scoffed, kicking a loose stone that was on the ground

"We'll ditch this shit parlor in a little bit. As soon as Merle gets his ass back here" I said, adjusting my mace in my belt. Daryl loaded a bolt in his crossbow, then became stealth. He was in hunting mode now.

Why did Daryl know how to hunt? Well our father was a piece of shit who'd sit on his ass all day watching the football game and wouldn't bother feeding us. For a while Merle would drive us around in his car and we'd go stealing stuff from grocery stores.