Sightless

Amy Harrison

~ Today ~

I didn't exit the RV until almost noon the next day. 

Daryl's harsh rejection, mixed with the terror, anxiety and grief from the day before left me isolated in my own mind, and it wasn't until a gunshot went off, right outside the RV doors that I exited. It was easy to descend the steps on my own, I had done them almost a hundred times by now, what I was not expecting was to fall on my face after tripping over something that was laying right in front of the door. 

"Meg!" I heard serval voices chime, but I couldn't pay attention to who it came from, only able to focus on the red hot pain exploding from my nose, and the thick, hot fluid that was now pouring from it. 

"Meg, God are you okay?" Dale's voice asked, suddenly clear in my head as arms laced under my pits and pulled me up and turned me so that I was sitting on my butt in the dirt. I nodded my head blindly, trying to wipe away the blood that was running into my mouth, but it wasn't stopping in it's flow. 

"'Ere." A gruff voice said, that sounded suspiciously like Daryl, though I wouldn't think that he would come to help me after last night, and a soft cloth was shoved under my nose, and then strong warm hands were squeezing my nose, holding the cloth to it. 

"It's not broken." The same Daryl-like voice said, as the fingers felt along the ridges of my nose, while still holding the cloth there, and I finally found my voice. 

"What'd I trip over?" I asked quietly, my words hitching just a bit at the end as I attempted to hold in the small sob from the pain. 

"Amy... you tripped over Amy." Andrea's pain-strikes voice rang out from behind me, towards the RV, and I suddenly wanted to puke. 

"Amy? Oh my God... Andrea I'm so sorry!" I cried, realizing that the only reason I could have tripped over Amy, was if she was laying there, dead in the dirt, and here I was, hogging all the attention because I'm so fucking stupid. 

"It's fine." She mumbled, but I could hear the anger in her voice, and then soft footsteps echoed in my ears as she walked away, probably to mourn her sister in peace. 

"Let's get you up." Dale said gently, and hands, who knows who's, gripped my armpits and lifted me straight into the air like I was a doll, and I had to catch the cloth that was on my nose before it fell when the hands moved from it to grab me. 

"What happened to Amy?" I mumbled once I was standing, and Dale took my hand in his gently (I could tell it was him based on the cold wedding ring on his left hand that he now wore on his middle finger, since it didn't fit his ring finger anymore). 

"She was bit last night. The scream before everything happened? That was her. She came out to get toilet paper and a Walker came up around the RV. It was my fault, I should've been on watch." He grumbled and I shook my head frantically, letting go of the cloth to grip his hand, dropping it I believe to the floor in the process. 

"It wasn't your fault Dale. We didn't know. You have to eat too, we should've known to put someone on watch, but it wasn't your fault. It was all of us." I said sincerely, and Dale pulled me into a hug. He nodded into my neck, and then pulled away and practically disappeared. 

Before I could freak out too much, the same rough hands that had held the cloth to my nose earlier, grabbed my hand to turn me to face them. I heard some fumbling, and the sound of water being poured, and then a wet cloth was being pressed up against my face, the hands gently washing away the blood that had started to dry there. 

"Can't 'ave ya looking like a Walker." The voice said, and there was no denying it this time, it was definitely Daryl. 

"I thought you were mad at me." I whispered, not knowing who was around but I didn't hear anything near. He froze for barely a moment before continuing to wipe at my face. 

"No. Not mad just... didn't know what to say. Was uncomfortable. Didn't mean to take it out on ya." He grumbled, and pulled his hand away, and I heard the water again, and the cloth was pressed against my face again, this time with the addition of his other hand holding my face a little to the left, and not moving away again once I was situated to his liking. 

"Well... I'm sorry I made you uncomfortable, but next time don't slam a door in my face okay? I know it's hard when you have to tell me, but I'd rather you just say it then walk away." I mumbled, hissing once when he pressed a little too hard against the side of my nose. 

"Sure." He grunted, and a few moments later he was done, and pulled the cloth away for good. 

"Next time you wanna go somewhere, call for the damn dog." He grunted, a tad harshly, and then his almost silent footsteps informed me that he was leaving, and a new bit of my already shattered heart crumbled.