Daryl's eyes shot open, his breathing heavy and his clothes dampened with sweat. His gaze shot around, almost expecting to see Mike or Will or to be in his old room. Instead he was in his own house in his own bedroom. The tiny two bedroom, one bathroom house in a rundown part of town. He let out a sigh of relief, just as he heard Merle's snores echoing throughout the house. Daryl sighed and sat up, flipping his phone open. It was 6 am, though he should've realized that considering the sun was up already. He shut the phone off and stretched, groaning as he glanced at his bedroom. It was a hell of a lot better than the room from his childhood. He actually had a bed, not a little mattress on the floor. It was a major improvement, to say the least. He also had a small bookshelf stuffed with books, even though he hadn't even touched half of them. On his dresser sat his compound hunting crossbow, the Horton Scout HD 125. Lean and smooth, with incredible strength. Beside it lay a quiver of bolts fitted for the beautiful crossbow. His floor was littered with filthy clothes that would need to be washed soon, but Daryl didn't have the time to run down to the laundromat and get them cleaned up. Maybe he'd go on Sunday.
He got up and gathered some new clean clothes, which consisted of a sleeveless flannel and ripped jeans. He took the clothes into the bathroom and started the shower, hopping in immediately because he knew it'd take an hour for it to warm up, and then the hot water would only last for five minutes. It was just quicker to take a cold shower than wait for the hot water.
After his short shower, Daryl stepped out and toweled off, avoiding looking at his hideous back. He dressed and brushed his teeth, his stomach grumbling. He stepped out of the bathroom, Merle's snores still coming from the second bedroom. Daryl rolled his eyes and headed into the kitchen. The kitchen was small and dirty, the sink was filled with dirty plates and silverware, and Daryl was sure that if he wasn't used to the smell of his house, then it'd probably smell horrible. He knew he probably should clean up some time soon, but as long as Merle kept throwing parties, there'd be no hope of keeping the place clean.
Daryl headed to the fridge, opening the cheap thing and glancing around. Leftover pizza, chicken, some beers, and milk that was probably spoiled. He sighed, knowing that he'd have to go shopping later. He grabbed the leftover pizza and headed into the living room, flopping down on the huge recliner that belonged to Merle. He flipped the TV on and watched some news. Blah blah blah meth dealer exposed blah blah blah some lady murdered by ex husband blah blah blah little boy kidnapped. Yeah, welcome to his town. He sighed and flipped the channel to some action movie with a bunch of cars. He ate the cold pizza in silence, the only sounds in the house coming from the TV and Merle's snores.
When Daryl was finished with the pizza and movie it was 9 o'clock, and the neighborhood was slowly waking up. A couple of kids played basketball in the street, two shady looking men were mumbling to each other, and even a prostitute was sitting on the corner, smoking a cigarette. Daryl was used to this scenery, but that didn't mean he liked it. He sighed and got up, brushing the pizza crumbs off of his clothes and heading to Merle's room, opening the door. He needed money to go shopping.
Merle was passed out on his bed, an ugly whore underneath his arm. The room reeked of drugs and alcohol and sex. Daryl made a face and walked over to Merle, shoving his older brother's shoulder roughly. Merle jerked in his sleep and groaned, turning his head to face Daryl. "The fuck d'ya wan'?" He growled.
"Fridge's empty. I need money to go shoppin'." He said, standing back.
Merle growled and pointed to his dresser. "Third drawer." He muttered, burying his face into his arm while the hooker beside him moaned in her sleep.
Daryl opened the drawer and found the disheveled pile of shirts and pants and boxers, some of which Daryl doubted was clean. He picked through carefully, making a face as he found the wad of cash. He only took fifty dollars and stuffed the rest back. He pocketed the fifty and grabbed the keys to Merle's truck.
