The Woman at The End of The World. (Daryl Dixon)

sixtythree.

I don't know how long I sat there, just staring; my cheeks wet; blue eyes red and puffy. My throat raw from screaming and crying so violently. Maybe hours. The static from the radio begins to fill the air, bringing me out of the trance. I run a hand along my face, wiping the tears along my eyes. Without taking my gaze off of the paved road in front of me, I remove the walkie talkie from my side.

"Rick? Daryl? Anyone?" I solemnly speak when I bring it to my lips.

"I'm here!" Rick's concerned tone falls over the radio, "what's going on?"

"Uhm," I stutter, unsure how to speak the truth, "Kelly's gone. He- he, uh, didn't make it." I close my eyes as the words fly out of my mouth.

"Shit." I bring the walkie talkie to my forehead trying to understand why the universe is so cruel. "I'm sorry. Something came up, so Daryl's still with me, need me to send him?"

I hang my head, trying to swallow the sob that's building. I shake my head violently, forgetting they can't see me. A lump forms in my throat.

"Blue, I'm comin' to get ya. Where ya at?" Daryl's concern gruff dances into the air.

"No, stick to the plan." I offer weakly. " I - uhm - his body is still in the car. I'm going to get him back to Alex. I have to." Fuck, I need to bury him. How the hell am I going to tell Charlee? I let out breath between my lips, "I couldn't save him."

"Are ya okay?" Daryl quietly asks. I hear his bike to roar to life in the background.

"What do you think? It's fucking Kelly." I immediately regret my words. They came off a bit harsher than I realized or intended to. "Sorry," I mumble. "I just need some time before I head back. I got it. I'll see you back home. Come back to me in one piece, Dare. I can't lose you, too." I turn off the radio before they could say anything else.

Fuck, I run a hand through my tangled, greasy hair, feeling anger dance through my veins. I pull myself off my knees. Without looking back at passenger seat, I toss in the radio before I kick my door closed. I decide it's time to go on a walk before I get back into the car. I'm armed with just my knives, but I don't plan on running into trouble, or looking for trouble, rather.

But trouble likes to find me, my cynical side menacingly reminds me.

My boots make very little noise while I stalk off down the road with no destination in mind. I allow my anger and sadness guide my legs.

If anyone could survive this twisted new world, it's Kelly. He should've been the last man standing. I should've fallen before him. Maybe, I should've expired a long time ago. It's miracle I'm still drawing air. He was prepared for this bullshit. But fucking Negan and his asshole company took that from him. They took him from me.

I will get my revenge, I promise myself.

I've lost a lot of people that I had met after I had landed and got stranded in Atlanta, but none of them share a history Kelly and I did. With Jordan, I wasn't present to witness his death at Owen's hands. For that, I was thankful. How horrible is that? Though with the state of affairs, it was only a matter of time before I lost Charlee, Wren, or Kelly. A part of me didn't want to consider such a morbid possibility. But here we are.

Numbness begins to slither along my flesh.

I officially moved my stuff out of Wren's house and into mine. I toss and turn in my new bed. I give up, staring at the ceiling, recalling my last memory with Daryl. I rub my face, feeling wet tears. I never got to fucking tell him.