Drown

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"Johnny Cash said love would burn, I never thought it'd hurt this bad."

In my head, I was running. Fast-paced movements keeping me preoccupied while so much of reality stood still. I wasn't just running; I was racing. Racing my thoughts, which always seemed to have won. A competition I never stood a chance against.

My eyes opened suddenly, the quickness of my movements immediately ceasing. Carl was laid next to me. He must have crawled into bed with me while I was sleeping. His cheeks were slightly squished against the pillows, causing his lips to be slightly parted. His breathing was slow and even. Inhale, exhale, dream, repeat. He was so peaceful. I was envious of his peaceful state of mind, even in REM.

With a sigh, I placed my hand on his cheek, bringing my forehead to his. Closing my eyes, I forced myself to think of Carl and me's story. I went back to the beginning when we first met on the highway and relived our story from there. He quickly grew to be my little buddy from the start. As he grew up, things would change slightly in certain aspects. He's matured very much and very rapidly, something I praise him for. It's not an easy thing to accomplish. Because of this, we can now hold a more adult-like friendship but still keep our childish nature. Carl just gets it and he's still fun-loving despite the dreary atmosphere. He's everything I need at times like these. These thoughts eventually lulled me to sleep, peaceful just like him.

When I awoke, Carl was gone. I expected nothing less. Although, I felt more rested and at peace which I was extremely grateful for. I changed quickly before going outside to work for the day.

As I walked around the outside of the prison, small bouts of anger-ridden muffles caught my attention. With furrowed brows, my pace picked up and my legs carried me around the corner faster. There, Daryl held Adam by the collar of his shirt, pushing him against the wall. 

I grew enraged. How dare he take action into his own hands. And for what? Finding a friend? One that cared about me? One that saved my life? I get it, I pushed his buttons with my remark about Adam. But, as I've said, we aren't together. His jealousy isn't an issue he can act upon now. Once a punch was thrown, that's when I finally took action.

I ran to the two men, yelling Daryl's name. He didn't listen, as usual. It was a Dixon quality to tune everything out when they were enraged. 

"Belle," Adam said, trying to get me to stay away from the situation.

"You leave her out of this," Daryl growled, slamming Adam's back against the wall again. He raised his fist to which I tried my best to pull back.

"Knock it off," I yelled angrily, pulling at Daryl's vest and shirt. He swung his arm back in my direction in annoyance, never once looking at me. His forearm collided with my cheekbone and I stumbled to the ground with a small grunt. This caught Daryl's attention.

He looked down at me, finally letting go of Adam's shirt. Daryl stared at me in shock. He wasn't one to be abusive, especially towards women. Only ones he felt deserved it. 

"Belle, I..." he stammered.

"No. You wanna hit me," I said, standing up angrily, "then hit me."

Daryl stared back at me, his eyes swimming with regret and anger all at once. A gaze that was hard and soft with no in between. "Belle," he said again.

"Come on, hit me," I continued, now pushing his chest backward. "Hit me." He stumbled for a moment before quickly recovering. "Hit me, goddammit." I continued to yell and push him back further away from Adam. "Fucking hit me." His arms would come up every so often to try and block my arms. "Hit me!"

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