AND THEN I FOUND YOU » Daryl Dixon

12. HEAVEN IN A HELLISH WORLD

To be re-written

The sky was daubed in pastel colours of pink, purple, and a blazing orange that the sun had cast in its last hours of visibility. The sun's golden rays shined through the back window of the Hyundai, illuminating the occupants as they travelled back home with the memory of their disastrous expedition fresh in mind.

The image of Zack's throat being torn out lodged itself to the outer edges of Jasmin's brain, constantly reminding her of the screams, the blood, and the agony Zack must have felt in his last moments.

It was one of the worst ways to die – suffocating on your own blood as things that were once human tore away at you, knowing that there was no way you could be saved and that you too would soon become the same things that killed you.

The silence in the car wasn't awkward nor painful, but full of grief. Grief for a boy they called 'friend'; a boy who suffered an excruciating, untimely death; a boy who had his whole life ahead of him but was cut short. A boy who was now a memory.

For him, they grieved.

"We're here," Michonne muttered.

Jasmin yawned as she stepped out of the car, her muscles contracting throughout her body, burning and aching from the strenuous day.

The group had come back with no food, no supplies, nothing, all of it being destroyed in the store's collapse. All they had gained was a loss.

Each member went their separate way, some going straight to the meal hut to replenish themselves, others going into their cells to be alone.

Jasmin entered the cell block, walking past Carl and another boy who seemed at least a year older than him. She headed straight towards the showers, not bothering to get a change of clothes; she just wanted the reminding blood and grime on her skin to be washed away.

She shook off her clothes and undergarments, letting them fall to the ground as she once again stood in front of the bathroom mirror, staring at the dried blood on her face that came from her mother/walker that had 'tears of blood'. Her eyes moved down her body. Not a single inch of her hadn't been covered in dirt or blood.

Turning the shower handle, she immediately stepped under the running water with no patience to wait for the warmth to come. She began to scrub her skin, feeling the flakes of dirt and skin fall off her body and escape down the drain.

She tilted her head up, letting the water run over her face and wash away the blood until she finally felt clean. Jasmin watched as the bloody water mixed around her feet, wondering if it was hers or a walker's. It didn't matter. She didn't care.

The reminiscence of the day had finally been washed away.

A few hours passed since the group had arrived back at the prison. The sun had finally set, and the sky was once again in its familiar dark and starry phase. The best time of the day, according to Jasmin.

Her hair was still slightly wet, leaving a cold breeze to linger on the back of her neck as she walked back inside the cell block, her hunger satisfied from that night's dinner. A couple of Twizzlers wouldn't hurt though.

She went into her cell, grabbing the red packet that sat on the desk across from her bed. As she tried to tear open the plastic as quietly as possible, a thought popped into her head. She stood in the doorway of her cell, staring at the stairs that led up to the perch.

His perch.

She hesitated for a moment, thinking about all the scenarios that could happen if she walked out of her cell and up those steps. Before anxiety got the best of her, she tucked the packet into her waistband and made her way towards the stairs.