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Daryl

I woke up to the sound of someone crying. A heavy pain filled my chest as I breathed. I rubbed my eyes open only to find my dad at the end of my room. He was slumped against the wall by my door. His head hung down and his body was limp. His shoulders shook and he cried. It was uncomfortable and I had no clue what to do. He kept crying, and for a couple minutes I just watched him. He had to have been drunk still.

I shifted in bed, adjusting to the soreness and pain on my torso. He heard me and looked up at me, he sat there and still he cried but it was silent now. My eyes grew weary, it hurt. He looked back down and shook, silently sobbing. I dragged myself to the edge of the bed and did my best to get up. I gasped and clutched onto my dresser in the side of my bed. I used the wall to guide me to where my dad was. I slumped down next to him and looked to him.

His face looked younger, which was odd. He looked so tired and broken; his eyes were lost. I reached for him but hesitated, I couldn't help him, I was never able to. I looked across the room and saw the picture of Ma on my dresser.

I looked back down for a beat and then back to my dad. I wrapped my arm around him; he leaned into me and continued to cry. We sat there for a while and neither of us said anythin. I held him for as long as he needed me to. And when he gained control of his breaths, he sat up, pulling away from me.

He looked over to me and his eyes examined my face. He looked so damn sad. He shifted uncomfortably and started to stand up. I watched him closely, I couldn't ever tell what his next move was. He struggled, but once he was on his feet, his posture changed and there he was. Whatever that was moments ago was gone and he was "himself" again. He glanced over to me, took in a sharp breath and left my room without a word.

I looked back to the picture of my mom and sighed. I began to bite my nails, thinking.

Everything was so damn confusing.

After a couple minutes of just sitting there. I decided I was gonna make myself breakfast. I managed to get myself up and used the wall to guide me down the hall and into the bathroom. I switched on the light, and looked into the mirror. Shit.

There was dried-up blood smeared across my check and all around my nose. The bridge of my nose and under the corners of both eyes were purple. Rachel was gonna lose her shit, but her family.. They'd think I got into another fight, they'll be pissed. I started the shower and got in. I didn't want to have to lie or explain myself. I was tired.

I got ready pretty quick, despite the constant aching every time I moved my body, and I made breakfast.. Enough for two.

I made my way down the hall and to his door. I listened for a sec, not knowing if he was awake. I cracked the door open and he was sitting at the edge of his bed.

"Hey.. dad." He lifted his head and turned it slightly but didn't meet my eyes. "I made breakfast."

He nodded, and I closed the door. I set up the table, and waited for him. After waiting for a few minutes I began to eat without him. I was about half way done when he finally came down the hall and sat across from me.

He began to eat, it was silent and stayed that way until he was done. I had already gotten up and started on the dishes.

"Boy, why don't you come and sit? Just leave em" he motioned to the dishes. I glared at him and he stared right back. "Don't look at me like that.. just come and sit."

Mushaboom • Daryl DixonWhere stories live. Discover now