Trespassing (Daryl Dixon x OC)

Under Pressure

"It's the terror of knowing what this world is about."

Since we'd left Terminus, I've been nearly silent. I couldn't stop thinking about everything; about how I can't handle any more loss or grief or struggle. There were two ways that could happen: everything ends and the world goes back to normal or I...or I don't live anymore. 

In the midst of all this, we met a man named Gabriel. We found refuge in his church for a short while until Gareth and some others from Terminus found us. Rick and some of the others slaughtered them, quite literally. Witnessing this added onto my mental dilemma. That scene constantly played over and over in my head. I was barely sleeping anymore, barely knew who I was.

Daryl and Carol ended up going off at one point, too, further adding onto the stress of what happened after we regrouped outside of Terminus. Did I still matter to him? Does he even care about what's going on with me? Has he even picked up on it?

This all eventually led to us all going back to Atlanta to Grady Memorial Hospital to get Beth. She never came back alive.

We took in her friend, Noah, who she befriended while at the hospital. We all agreed to travel with him to Virginia to try and find his family. They all turned. Tyreese ended up getting bit while we were there. We lost him, too.

The loss of Beth and Tyreese further chipped away at my sanity. I couldn't take this anymore and no one has picked up on what is happening to me. I was deteriorating fast and it was slipping past so many people. Beth's death took a greater toll on Daryl than I could comprehend and that mentally broke me even more. Why was everyone else affecting him except me?

Our car eventually broke down and we all had to travel on foot. We were running extremely low on food and water. We were all nearly silent. Every so often one of us would slip away into the woods to try and find water. We almost always came back empty-handed. 

I, on the other hand, would constantly slip away so I could break down. Well, it started out that way. First, I would sneak away just so I could have a cry and feel numb for the next few hours. That eventually turned into me sneaking off, breaking down, and holding my knife to different parts of my body, urging myself to do something. I wanted to know I was living because I really had no clue anymore. I wanted to feel something, and if that something had to be pain then so be it. I never could, though.

Then, there was that one time I brought out my gun. It was probably one of the scariest moments of my life. I was really at my wit's end, really ready to throw my whole life away. I was just so ready for all the pain to stop. 

I was in the middle of breaking down, holding my knife to my arms but never being strong enough to press the blade into my skin. I dropped it to the ground before another idea popped into my head. I fought it for a moment, thinking it was absolutely ludicrous. Eventually, I reached for my gun, checking how many bullets were in the magazine before taking off the safety and cocking it. With my heart racing, I slowly lifted the barrel up to my temple. My hand was shaking.

"Belle," I heard faintly from behind me. Putting the safety back on, I turned around.

I met Carl's sad eyes. Seeing the look on his face made me feel extremely guilty. He just found me in the middle of the woods with a gun to my head. The tears kept falling from my dead eyes. What could I even say?

"Carl," Rick said as he emerged, I'm assuming chasing after his son. Carl must have run off to find me.

Rick and I locked gazes. He briefly glanced at the gun in my hand before putting the pieces together. He gave me the same sad, sympathetic look his son had.