The Walking Dead - Drained and Insane ([Daryl Dixon]Fanfic)

Chapter 2: Runner

She went with instinct.

She swivelled around and she ran. She just ran. She refused to look back and she didn't stop. She just kept on running. Her legs burned, her chest tightened and her heart pounded so fast she thought she could see the imprint of it pounding violently against her chest. She finally convinced her self to stop once she was a safe distance away.

The man did not follow her and she realized he didn't even attempt to stop her. She leaned over with her hands on her knees as a wave of dizziness and numbness crashed over her. She steadied her breathe from a deep pant to a rhythmic light puff and leaned against a tree.

She went with her head, not her heart. Used strategy rather than feelings. After she isolated herself, she vowed that she wouldn't become too emotionally attached to anyone. The more she cared, the more she would have to lose and that was the same with others, the less they cared about her, the less she would hurt them when they lost her.

As if messages on queue by her heart, thoughts bombarded her brain that made her heart and stomach hurt.

What if he could have led her to safety?
 

What if he had a camp?
 

Or even secured a whole town?
 

What if he had a group with good people?

 

What if he could have been the answer to all her problems?

 

What if he could have protected her from not just the walkers, but herself?

The thoughts whizzed around her head and she cried out in anger and kicked hard at the tree she was leaning against. She felt the rage and frustration escalate rapidly inside her, like a wild beast tearing through her stomach.

She brought out her knife and swung it hard at the tree, sinking it deep through the bark as she sniffled back the tears that didn't seem to come. She yanked out the knife and stabbed it back at the tree. Exhausted, she huffed and fell flat against the tree, banged her fist hard against it repeatedly then stopped when she noticed she had begun panting again.

She lay her forehead against the tree and let her hands drop beside her in defeat. She started banging her head hard against the tree.

"I'm a monster," she mumbled through her tearless sobs and sniffles.

"I'm a monster," she repeated louder.

She let the opportunity slip and the shards of glass pierced her from every direction when it shattered onto the floor into tiny fragments.

No matter how hard she tried to put the pieces back, she only hurt herself in the process.

She had ruined everything. She was finished.

She ran like a coward, away from an opportunity that could have saved her.

"You got quit 'er temper for a lil' lady," she heard a man's voice scoff behind her.

"I ain't nobody's lil' lady," she spat back harshly through gritted teeth, with her forehead still against the tree and her eyes shut.

Completely forgetting the war she just had in her head moments ago, her heart felt as though it was in her throat when she slowly spun around to be face to face with him. The man with the crossbow.

"And quite an attitude," he scowled.

She paused and her expression immediately darkened. This was not who she was. She was not rude and she did not have an attitude. She was quiet, numb, polite and shy. The man's features softened and he lowered his crossbow when he saw the pure sadness cloud her eyes and her once annoyed expression was completely transformed to a distant, scared and vulnerable expression.