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LOLA WATCHED AS daryl stalked inside the room, holding a long piece of a branch, green leafs attached it as he fiddled with the end of the wooden branch as she stared at the floor.
lydia was standing in front of the cell bars, her arms wrapped around each other as the light illuminated off her face. lola was on the opposite side of the cell, her back against the cement wall as she tried to fall asleep, since the sun had gone down and it was now dark outside, the young brunette thought it would be the best time to get as much rest as she could.
"you know, some dads would come up with any excuse," daryl stared as she pulled pieces of the leafs off the branch. "just to beat the shit out of their kids. maybe they're drunk. maybe they can't get drunk."
lola watched daryl intently, her dark eyebrows pulled together as he spoke. Although, their dad wasn't a saint, he never beat them or harmed them in anyway. but as she stared at the branch in daryl's hand she could feel the pain that she felt when it came down on her arm each time, over and over. she felt the tears coming even before they welt up in her eyes but she quickly wiped them away as quickly as they came.
"but these assholes, they ain't picky," daryl continued as he shrugged. "they'll use whatever's layin' around. but a good switch from a birch tree, that'll work. your dad sounds a lot like one of those dads. except the part where he sang to you two when you were scared. those dads, they like it when your scared."
lola bit the inside of her cheek as daryl rambled on as she wrapped her arms around herself for warmth since the openings of the metal bar window blew in the cold breeze from outside.
"thing is, that's the only part of your stories that didn't sound like bullshit," daryl stated as a long pause followed right after as he stared between the two girls. "now, you both knew exactly what this was when I walked down here. and those bruises on your arm, they come from a beating."
lola rubbed at the sleeve of her arm that hid the marks that covered her skin. she didn't like showing them, she felt like she deserved every single one. but that didn't mean she didn't feel insecure about the marks that were left there.
"so let me ask you two, if your dad's dead, who gave 'em to you?" daryl questioned as he walked closer to the bars that separated them from each other.
"our mom." lydia stated as she brought her face closer to the bars.
"where is she?"
"be glad you don't know." lola scoffed as she shook her head slowly.
"where is she," he repeated with a stern tone. "where's your camp?"
lola licked her chapped lips as she shook her head, looking at the ground amused.
