Please hold my hand || Daryl Dixon

23.

The car starts advancing the opposite way. As if the car didn't hold my precious, innocent baby, it disappears from my sight.

No amount of pushing my legs to go faster can fix this mistake. "Please!" My breathing fastens, all though I don't get nearly enough air. I tumble to the pavement, caving in on myself.

God- god how could this happen? My entire world just crashed in front of my very eyes, I just watched as my baby girl was taken from me.

My whole life I've ran. First it was for the track team I was on, being yelled at by coach to push just a little bit harder. Then it was for my pregnant life, the groans and mindless movements of the walkers pushing me just enough to make it. Eventually it was for the lives of my new family.

No amount of pushing myself, or running, or pain could've prepared me for this.

It wasn't me who pushed myself over the ledge, it was the thief who just robbed me of my happiness, reason for moving forward, my home.

Daphne Kenyon is with a stranger because I didn't do enough.

The open wounds on my skin remind me how far behind I was when my daughter was taken. The scrapes on my hands and elbows play how weak I became as any chance of getting her diminished as the car drove out of my eye line.

That sick, wrenching in your stomach when you can actually feel pain in your chest from something you just endured. You know that feeling?

That's the feeling reminding me of how I just lost my daughter.

Only this time it doesn't feel like it plans on leaving, but eating its way through me and planting a home. Roots.

The whole walk back to the place I resent was almost agony.

The numb has just about kicked in, it's like anesthesia where it doesn't hurt but I can still feel it, feel it sucking everything out of me as I heave for air.

Just as I step up the gates there are yells and a few seconds later they open for me to pass through.

Rick spins around, his hands pulling at his head as sobs pull from his throat.

I keep my gaze to the floor. It's nice, his cries, I mean. It's like music to represent almost how I'm feeling. Though if you wanted to get it just right it'd be louder, gut wrenching screams. My lungs would be so raw and dry. My stomach would tense and my fists would hit everything and anything.

But that was before. Now the feeling is a background character.

I mean, sure, my daughter had yet to fully develop a personality and I haven't been able to watch her grow to be the person she'd become. But that's all in the past, right? I mean, surely it's not going to happen now? What are the chances I'll find my not even a year old kid in this world? What are the chances you'll tell me the truth and not sugarcoat the answer?

Daryl pushes the hair out of dead eyes, pulling a dry leaf from the rats-nest. His eyes brighten with curiosity and he looks around, not finding who he looks for.

He turns back to me, me already looking at him with no expression. He shakes his head slightly, not believing it. He stops his movements, stepping back. His bottom lip quivers for a second and my vision blurs with unshed tears.

Daryl pulls his bottom lip in his mouth to keep it from wavering. I can see his waterline overflow, and for once his tough exterior cracks, a tear followed by many. I can tell he's good at this as he makes no sound, though everyone can already see it.

Stumbling towards him I crumble in his chest, my shoulders rack with emotions.

I never wanted to be a mother. I just couldn't see that for myself. And then I got pregnant and eventually there was a connection made by the fact I was growing a life inside of me- I was creating a human being. It was just so awesome to go through and I felt like I wasn't just passing through life anymore. Maybe I didn't do a good job- is this my punishment? Because truth be told, if I had it my way, selfishly I would trade it to be anyone else instead of her.

I feel I deserve to hold her until she's too big to lift on my hip. Do I not?

But if I were given the option, I'd do it all again. Holding my daughter for the first time was so life changing, it was such a beautiful moment. And every passing instant after that was filled with dream fuel- things people can only whip up while they're asleep.

I'm not a princess, and I definitely don't get a happy ending- I know that. I was hoping maybe I was lucky enough to keep living the fantasy.

A/N, I'm so good at making myself cry 😀And this isn't the end.

I'm an attention whore, what can I say, maybe if I wasn't living vicariously through Nina then Daphne would still be here and Ryder wouldn't be- wait what...? 😟