peaches & softie | daryl dixon ✅

Prologue

 Running home for a mile, I haven't wanted to stop once. I pray that the guys I learned to live with are okay. I hop up the few steps as I make it a few feet from my apartment building. The door opens, allowing me to see five geeks in the one hallway.

I groan in annoyance before moving up the stairs to B3; my former home. The door shuts with a bang. It was silent until the geeks start banging from the other side. I jump back, regaining composure and going through my apartment, grabbing necessities: Water, food, few clothes, toothbrush, and other things.

The final thing I take is my Glock and hunting knife, storing it in my bag as I set the piece in the waistband of my jeans. I take a few packs of ammunition. I grip my bow and quiver, moving towards the emergency fire stairwell.

I glance back for a minute, studying my friend lying on the chair. She has a round through her skull from the piece in my jeans, the words 'Forgive me Carter' etched into her arm by the knife in my sack. Grunting, I give a sorry before leaving by the window and closing it.

 I climb down the emergency exit and onto my Yamaha. I ride away from the craziness, my hair floating in the breeze. My eyes stay looking at what was home before I mutter, " Let there be a nice sunset ending up ahead." It never happened.