Daryl took a drag from his cigarette, leaning on the guard tower railing as he surveyed the area. Everything was fairly quiet, apart from the distant shuffling and moaning of the walkers beyond the fence. Glenn and Maggie were down there now, trying to clear some of the more congested sections where packs tended to gather, pushing against the chainlink. Carol, Rick, and a handful of others walked the fields, working on the garden or bringing buckets of water back to the storage barrels on the basketball court.
The cell block door rattled open below, followed by high pitched shouts and the sound of running feet. Daryl grabbed his rifle, ready to face whatever crisis had just begun. Children poured out into the yard, chasing each other and laughing.
“Alright now,” called a familiar voice, “What did I say about screaming? We don’t scream unless there’s danger. It scares us grown-ups.”
“Sorry, Y/N!” came the chorus of replies as the kids gathered around her.
“Before I set you all loose, who can repeat what the assignment is?” Y/N asked, voice strong and authoritative.
You sounded like a teacher. Daryl smiled to himself, remembering his own school days. He’d liked going to school–getting away from his father and Merle, being able to feel included for a while, even if it was just a few hours.
He relaxed, leaning back down against the handrail and watching you work.
“Create a game.” One of the kids – Daryl thought her name was Mika – piped up. “With at least five rules, um...at least two people, and a clear ending.”
“And how long do you have to make it before I come to try it out?” You asked, looking for another answer. “Freddie?”
“Forty-five minutes.”
“Right. You all know your groups?”
“Yes.” Came another chorus of replies and nods.
“Okay.” You smiled. “Start playing!”
The children scattered, running to all different parts of the yard, gathered into groups of three or four. Daryl’s gaze, however, stayed on you as you checked your watch and settled your hands on your hips to supervise the kids’ progress.
Only a couple of weeks had passed since you arrived and only one since you started teaching, but the place already felt different. The decision to turn the library into a classroom wasn’t difficult. The council didn’t even have to vote on it. But what you did afterwards…
First, you re-instituted the days of the week. Everyone else had given up long ago on keeping track of dates and days beyond the sun rising and setting. But, as you pointed out, which day was called Monday and which day was called Thursday didn’t really matter in the first place. So with the help of the council, you started a new week.
With that semblance of long-term structure in place, you planned a school schedule. The kids would spend four days a week in the library with you, taking Wednesday and the weekend off to rest and help out with the work that always needed doing around the prison.
The kids loved you. More than that, the kids fucking respected you. They wanted to go to class. But then who could blame them.
YOU ARE READING
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Fanfiction"This place you have," You said. "It's secure?" "Yeah." He scoffed, as if the question offended him. "Th'prison about three miles west." The prison. You were much farther south than you'd thought. "I can take ya there, but you've gotta answer some q...
