Daisy | The Walking Dead

2. Days gone bye

She comprehended that trust was a precious currency, one not to be bestowed lightly.

From her vantage point atop the camper van, she astutely observed the intricate dynamics within the camp, a subtle routine she had adopted over the boring days. It was as if she possessed a second sight, a heightened ability to fathom the true character of each survivor.

Within this seemingly unremarkable place, the traits and idiosyncrasies of those around her carried a profound weight. Daisy had unwittingly assumed the role of a silent observer, quietly gauging the essence of each individual - particularly the adults, whom she regarded with a wariness that undoubtedly and deservedly surpassed her interactions with the other children.

Her focus flitted from one survivor to another, tracing a web of connections and characteristics that delineated their makeshift community. 

Carol, the quiet pillar of strength in the camp, though often underestimated, had earned Daisy's deepest respect and admiration. There was a serene grace about her that resonated with inner resilience. She always made sure Daisy had a place to rest where she wouldn't be alone and ensured there was food on her plate, that she was always hydrated, and had clean clothes. 

Daisy's humming was a soft, soothing accompaniment to her vigil, her small hands gently resting on the roof's edge. Her silent observations continued, not only cataloging the bonds woven within the camp, but also mentally sketching the figures temporarily absent from her view—those out scavenging or hunting, temporarily estranged from the camp's embrace.

Sisters Amy and Andrea were always kind, like rays of sunshine. Their warmth and camaraderie wrapped around her like a comforting blanket and their constant stories and laughter created a sense of safety and happiness, within not only Daisy but most of the camp's inhabitants. 

Lori and Shane, on the other hand, were more enigmatic figures in Daisy's silent assessment. Their relationship wove a complex tapestry of emotions. Lori's unwavering determination to keep her family together was obvious, but she always seemed... adrift. As for Officer Shane, a stalwart protector, his intensity both fascinated and concerned Daisy.

Every action, every word that emanated from him carried an edge of urgency. In him, she saw a guardian whose motivations remained veiled, a man forged by the crucible of their new world.

Others in the camp triggered an unmistakable unease in Daisy, their presence akin to warning bells ringing in her head. At the forefront of her concerns stood brothers Daryl and Merle Dixon,  men whose gruff demeanors and volatile tempers cast a looming shadow of tension over their budding community.

Daisy had borne witness to their fiery clashes with others, each altercation sending a shiver down her spine. Dale, the kind old man who owned the camper, often played the role of peacemaker, but even he couldn't always stave off the inevitable conflicts.

Yet, above all, it was Ed who personified her deep-seated unease, serving as a living manifestation of her innermost fears. When Carol kindly bestowed upon Daisy the strawberry-themed attire she currently adorned, which had originally belonged to her daughter Sophia, a newfound friend to Daisy, Ed unleashed a torrent of hostility aimed squarely in her direction.

His cruel words, branding her a 'worthless mute brat who didn't belong in the camp,' landed on the little child like a physical blow. It triggered an anxiety attack, an overwhelming onslaught of fear and insecurity that required hours of clinging to Glenn and T-Dog's comforting presence to soothe.

The fear that gripped her wasn't solely tied to Ed's cruelty; it was a reflection of the haunting memories of her father's darkest days. Recollections she desperately wished to bury, memories of a man she had loved deeply, a man whose essence had been irrevocably corroded by the poison of drugs and alcohol.