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⠀"Daryl?"
⠀Said man immediately turned at the sound of his name. He had stopped looking throughout his clothes at all the marks. The ones she had left in a shade of red. A colour so familiar to him it coincided with the girl in almost every moment around her. The ones on his hands bound round his wrists like red strings.
⠀The face who had called his name was Maggie, and she had an almost relieved but desperate look in her eyes. The woman approached with outstretched arms but did not touch him, as her hands went back to her sides.
⠀The young woman didn't know what to say ― to a man who ran away at the sight of a girl with closed eyes and an empty sound in her chest.
⠀The man who was now staring at her hands with concentration, as they shook helplessly stained with blood. Maggie tucked her hair behind her ears, pacing on the spot.
⠀"She―uh," Maggie gestured to the doorway behind her. "We didn't know where you went... she's in there."
⠀Daryl had no idea what she was trying to get through to him, and all he knew was the everything was foggy and disorientated. He knew he couldn't listen to the sound of her voice without it echoing, therefore there was no use in listening in the first place.
⠀"Daryl!" Maggie almost yelled. "It's Marley!"
⠀The person she was so desperately calling for met her wide-eyes with his own― surely he forgot to breathe in that moment. He couldn't recollect to do anything and he was sure his body was as dead as what he thought hers was.
⠀He had probably convinced himself that he must have been dreaming, and this was his head giving him what he desired; the thing these past, harrowing few moments had reminded him that she was like summer ― appreciated only when gone . He must have hit his head and fallen asleep in those woods. This was no reality in his eyes ― it was a haunting trick.
⠀He saw Maggie's lips say "She's alive", yet did not hear a single syllable. There is no particular way to feel about this, except a tripping helplessness in your mind.
⠀Reaching forward but being pulled backward at the same time.
⠀Daryl almost lurched forward at her words, like an invisible force pushed him. The image of her like that ― limp ― gnawed away at him. It was something that consumed him and the mere possibility of that going away struck adrenaline in his blood. The miniscule, yet entirely real, possibility that the last image he had of her, didn't need to be the last.
