Blind ➳ D.D (Pre-Apocalypse)

1. Daryl Dixon

12 years ago.

I will never forget the day I met Daryl Dixon.

"Mama! I'm going outside to play!" I yelled, slipping on my faded, cute cowboy boots that have pink outlining, which were my absolute favourite at the time.

"Fine, but be back before dinner! It'll be ready in about an hour! And don't go too far into the woods; I don't want Luke to go searching for you again!" She called over the sound of loud sizzling from whatever she was cooking in the kitchen.

I giggled at the thought of my older brother chasing me throughout the woods. Again.

Turning the door handle, I ran outside with my arms spread apart as if I'm flying, and squealed in delight.

The hot, humid, Georgia air swirled against my body whilst I ran past the tree line, into a dense forest which I know it as my home. Or simply, my backyard.

Familiar surroundings cloud in my greyish/blue eyes while I ran with glee as fast as my tiny legs can take me. Not honestly caring where to go.

Out of nowhere, not really paying careful attention, I suddenly hit something, which made the sound of "oof."

My body fell backwards into the grass making me land on my back, thankfully not getting winded.

It couldn't be a tree. That thing wasn't as hard as one. And, then again, trees don't grunt.

Sun shone in my eyes, making the thing in front of me appear as a faded shadow. But I could tell it was definitely a person.

Covering my hands over my squinting eyes to block the sun, I looked up to see a young boy.

A boy with shaggy hair, blue eyes and ratty, torn clothes. He seemed around my age. Dirt covered his body basically everywhere. He held a hunting knife tightly.

I quickly hopped back up to my feet. Seeing he's a bit taller then me, I stood a few feet back. Who knows who he is.

He shyly stared at the ground away from me, his face hidden behind that dirty hair.

He seemed harmless enough.

"You should take a bath sometime," I said, making him slowly look up at me, his hair falling to the side, revealing some of his face.

I also noticed his hand loosened the grip around the handle of the knife.

He's kind of cute, I thought.

But at that time, I thought all guys were cute. Even though I was six, I had an open eye, and heart for 'men'.

He awkwardly shifted from one foot to the other.

I confidently reached my hand out for him.

"I'm Underwood, Holly Underwood."

He did nothing.

I pursed my lips in frustration. This kid is difficult.

Finally, he slowly took my hand in his and did a slow shake.

He mumbled something, still not making eye contact.

"What?"

"Daryl."

"You don't have a last name?"

"Dixon. Daryl Dixon."

I smiled.

"Do you want to play with me Daryl Dixon?" I let go of his hand.

"Okay," He mumbled and looked back at the ground, which unfortunately is pretty interesting. He must've not known what to make of me at the time.