Show Me the Scars You Hide

[05]

"Our fate is determined by how far we are prepared to push ourselves to stay alive - the decisions we make to survive. We must do whatever it takes to endure and make it through alive."

~Bear Grylls

Skye Taylor

Daryl laid on the ground, fast asleep. He took first watch and woke me up about an hour ago. Part of me wanted to stay with this group. But another part of me wanted to leave, to live- find Seth. Trusting people isn't smart. Relying on people isn't smart. Yet part of me wanted to stay. I'd been alone for so long.

People are capable of being good. But they're also capable of being bad. People are capable of surprising you. These people, they seem good but everything seems good at first. Even if they are good, this world will change them, it has to. You have to adapt to survive.

I looked over at Daryl to see him tossing and turning. Suddenly he let out a frustrated sigh, then turned onto his back, his eyes opening and staring at the open night sky.

"Can't sleep?" I asked as I dug my hunting knife into the dirt below me. Daryl turned back on his side, now facing me. His blue eyes staring at me. The only light we had was the large moon in the sky, our fire died out earlier in the night and neither of us felt the need to make it again.

"How do ye do it?" Daryl asked.

"Do what?"

"I don't know, I guess... Never mind."

"No what is it?" I asked, suddenly getting curious.

"Ye jus' keep goin' on, like nothin' bad has happened to ya. How do ye keep goin'?" He asked. I smiled slightly at that question, can't explain why. I have no reason to be alive, no reason to keep fighting but I do, I have to.

"All my life I had to fight, to keep going. I had to fight back then to stay alive just like I do now. I left my past behind me and all the bastards that tried to hurt me are in a ditch, they're either dead, about to be, or I'll just never see them again. All my reasons to give up back then are now my motivation to keep going. You kinda... you kinda just have to survive somehow. Despite all I've lost, I'm still here you know?"

"Yeah, I get it." Daryl responded.

"You ever get scared?" I asked.

"I ain't scared of nothin'."

"No, not scared of people or walkers but... scared of turning into something you aren't? That's what I'm scared of, getting too used to this world is a bad thing. But If you sit around a wait to be saved you're dreaming and you're going to die." Daryl then sat up and stared at me intently.

"Yer scared?"He asked, it sounded as if he couldn't believe it, like it was such an unusual thing to say. Of course I'm scared. I'm scared of dying but I'm more scared of living.

"Everyone's scared of something." I said as I shrugged my shoulders.

"I ain't." He stated.

"I'd call you lucky but you aren't" I told him. Daryl gave me a puzzled look before saying,

"Why ya say that?"

"Because being scared keeps you alive." Daryl scoffed and continued staring at me which honestly, was just getting on my nerves. "You got a family?" I asked trying to break away from the fear topic, considering he thinks he's such a badass that isn't scared of anything.

"Got a brother." Daryl said.

"Yeah? He back at camp? I didn't meet him." I said.

"Nah he was on a run with some other people in the group." Daryl stated. I nodded my head, understanding.

"He got a name?" Daryl smirked before answering,

"Merle."

"You guys close?"

"Ye ask too many questions." Daryl said, instead of answering my question.

"I'm trying to get to know you." I said after rolling my eyes.

"Why?"

"Why what?" I asked.

"Why are ye tryin' ta get ta know me? Ain't ya leaving anyways?" Daryl asked.

"I haven't decided, If I'm staying that is."

"Ye know what I think?"

"No but I'm sure you'll tell me." I said with a smile.

"I think yer scared to stay, yer scared ta get close to all those people at that camp. Ye don't want ta get close just fer them ta die." The smile playing on my face instantly disappeared the second those words came from Daryl's mouth.

"I'm trying to get close to you aren't I?" I said, defending myself.

"Yeah, but I'm just some Idiot redneck. No one cares if I die, ye ain't worried bout me." He said, looking down at the dirt beneath him.

"You really are an idiot aren't you?" I asked. Daryl looked up at me, confused but befire he could respond I continued talking, "You label yourself, who cares? People aren't going to hate you because you're a redneck, they just don't know how to approach you. You are pretty intimidating." I told him. A smile appeared on his face.

"Ye know, I have the same problem as ye. I don't try and get close ta people."

"Why?" I asked.

"They don't understand."

"You'd be surprised what I understand." I told him, looking away. I tried to avoid his strong gaze but I could tell he was curious now.

"How do ya understand meh?" He asked. I again refused to meet his gaze. I could hear him scooting closer to me but I still refused to look up. I was met by those blue eyes quickly however. Daryl tilted my head up by my chin so I'd look at him. "Tell me how." I looked into his sparkling blue eyes and instantly felt like I should.

"I'll show you." I told him. I turned around so he could no longer see my face, and I moved my hair onto my left shoulder. I took a deep breath before pulling my tank top up, revealing my back. Daryl began to run his fingers across my back.

"How's ye get em?" He asked.

"My ol' man was a piece of shit too." I forced a laugh, it was obviously fake. Daryl continued to trace the scars which was weird to me. No one had ever seen them before only two people, me and the man who gave them to me. I never even told anyone about them, not my mom, or Seth, or my best friend Charlotte.

"I'm sorry." Daryl said as I pulled my tank top back down, forcing his hands away. I turned around and smiled.

"Don't be. They don't hurt no more." I told him.

"What's that?" Daryl asked, pointing to something on my shoulder. I nervously laughed before replying,

"Cigarette burns."

"He burned ye?" Daryl asked. I nodded my head, not able to speak anymore. I wanted to cry, thinking of all the terrible things that bastard did to me, but I refuse to give him the satisfaction. It's done and over with. "If I ever meet him I will kill him." Daryl seethed. I laughed and shook my head.

"He's already gone." I told him.

"Ye get rid of him?" He asked. I laughed slightly and shook my head.

"Found him when shit broke out. He was torn apart." I told him. I still couldn't decide after all this time whether to be happy or sad. I shouldn't miss him, I don't miss him. But he was still my dad and being happy for his death just seems wrong I guess a better way to describe what I've been feeling is content.

"Damn."

"Damn is right." I said.

"Ye should stay." Daryl said.

"Nah, You were right about me. Getting close to people isn't something I'm good at. And since everyone is going to die anyways, what's the point?" I asked.

"The point is ye shouldn't be afraid to be alive. Ye can't survive without people, not anymore."

"I'll think about it..."