Living On A Prayer (Daryl Dixon/ TWD)

Chapter 7

Adasyn

I hauled in the gallons of paint into my small apartment, looking at Aralyn propped up on the couch, her eyes blankly focused on the tv. I stepped in front of her, blocking her vision, causing that blank expression she wore to meet my eyes.

"Okay you," I announced, turning to hit the power button. "Get up."

"I don't want to get up," she mumbled. Her eyes were rimmed red, and puffier than usual.

"I don't care," I replied in a sing song voice. "We have a room to paint."

"What room?" She asked, leaning up from her previous position.

"Yours, duh."

"My room is fine," she sighed.

I tsk'd, shaking my head at her. "I know for a fact that you HATE the color grey, and I happen to have two buckets of pale yellow paint - I think it was called spring sunshine or some shit - but regardless, I also know this is your favorite."

"Mom and dad never let me paint my room,"

I smiled sadly at her, ruffling her already messy hair. "New beginnings, yeah?"

She looked up at me thoughtfully before shrugging her blanket to the side and taking my hand. "Okay," she replied softly. "Can Ashlynn come too?"

"She's already on the way," I smiled. "And I believe shes got a special delivery of fairy lights and Waffle House coming with her." Aralyn laughed, and just the sound of it made me smile. I hadn't heard that laugh in a whole month .. I knew then that she'd be okay. it may take awhile, but me and Ash, we'd make it all okay for her.

My heavy, un blinking eyes focused on the massive pile of dirt in front of me, the sun beating down harshly on my bare shoulders - the heat being the farthest thing from my mind. I heard muffles around me that I assumed to be voices, at some point I think I even felt people's hands gripping my shoulder. But I just stared at that damn pile of dirt. How fucked up it was that my sister, a human being that had lived an entire lifetime in just a few short years, someone that had a favorite food, a laugh that could light up any room, secrets .. memories.. someone who within a matter of hours was now nothing more than a corpse, buried a few feet under a massive pile of dirt with a stupid little twig cross poking from the top, her locket dangling around it's frail frame just to mark that it was her. Just so we knew, so that people who made it here after us would know- that she was once a person.

And now she was gone.

A glanced around the room, blue tape marking off the baseboards and one whole wall already coated in the yellow paint - a wicked idea crossing my mind as some boy band floated through the radio. I shuffled closer to Aralyn, moving as slow as I possibly could so that she wouldn't notice. Once I was where I needed to be, I faked a stumble, falling directly into Aralyn - my paint brush slapping against her cheek, leaving behind a trail of yellow.

"Oops," I mumbled, forcing back a smile as Ary turned to me, wide eyed, jaw slacked.

"You're so in for it," she growled, seeing right through my facade. I heard Ashlynn howl in laughter as she dunked her entire hand into the paint, plopping it down on the top of my head.

"Oh you've done it now," I said, copying her actions. "That is never gonna come out of my hair!"

"You started it," she shrieked, backing away from me quickly, trying to make it over to Ashlynn. She ducked behind her quickly, and Ash raised her hands in surrender - eyes focused on the paint steady leaking from both of my hands.