LIFE WORTH LIVING [Daryl Dixon]

| ONE |

Shadows began to cast over the camp as the sun rose; the air began to warm up and became thick with humidity. Megan swiped her hand against her forehead to rid the sweat that had started to drip from her scalp, causing her hair to stick to her face. She became increasingly frustrated with the Georgia heat and had nowhere to escape. She prayed for cool air and ice-cold water with little effect. The few seconds of breeze were not enough.

Megan stared into the distance, praying that she would wake up from her nightmare; the sound of feet shuffling across the gravel broke her from her thoughts, and Megan looked up to see Lori approaching her.

"How are you feeling?" Lori asked Megan for the third time that morning. She stood with one hand on her hip, with a look of concern on her face.

Megan sighed heavily, brushing her light brown hair out of her eyes. "I'm fine, Lori, but please stop asking," she sighed, exasperated. She knew her sister-in-law only asked out of concern, but there was something about being asked repeatedly if she was okay that made her feel everything but okay.

"I'm sorry, I'm just worried; pregnancy was hard enough before this happened, and now you've barely got enough food to keep you going, little water and no medical care-"

"Don't you think I know that?" Megan snapped, a touch harsher than she had intended, as she stood up from her seat. A few other campsite occupants had turned their heads at the raised voices. "Do you think I want this? I am tired, hot, thirsty and starving, and you're not helping. Reminding me of all the things we no longer have doesn't help. I'm mourning the death of my husband, the potential death of my brother and carrying a baby, please," she sighed heavily, "please, don't ask me if I'm okay or how I'm feeling. Please," she pleaded.

Lori recoiled slightly, and her hand dropped from her hip. Her stance changed from confident to withdrawn, and she put her hands together and picked at her fingernails. "I know, I'm sorry. That was inconsiderate."

A few feet away, Merle Dixon spoke up, a wide grin stretching across his ageing face, "my, my, she's a feisty one," he chuckled, throwing the end of his cigarette into the fire.

A chorus of shut up, Merle, rang around the camp in chastising tones.

Megan remained unfazed by Merles' remarks and had mostly forgotten the brief interaction with Lori. She was preoccupied with steadying her breathing and fanning herself with her hand in an attempt to cool down.

"Why don't you go and sit in the RV? It's a bit cooler in there," Dale called down from the top of the RV where he had watched the scene unfold.

Megan nodded slowly, "thanks, Dale," she called back before heading towards the RV. The door was already open, and she stepped inside with ease. It wasn't much cooler inside, but the difference was still noticeable.

Andrea approached Lori, who stood by the fire, wondering how to support her sister-in-law without unintentionally causing more harm than good.

"Hey," Andrea said, placing her hand on Lori's shoulder, "wasn't the best way to word it," she said with raised eyebrows. "This isn't how any of us are meant to live. No one wants reminders of what life should be like."

"I know," Lori sighed, "I just don't know what to do. I know Rick would have wanted us to stick together. We used to be so close, but since we got here, since Matthew - I don't know. She's changed."