Find Your Purpose, Before It's Too Late

Chapter 4

That night you stayed in the gazebo until the full moon hung high in the sky. You could see the windows of home you shared shining bright with life and family. While you waited for the lights to be turned out one by one, you looked up at the stars and searched for the Big Dipper; the constellation that you were supposed to look for when you were lost. The one that helped point you to the north star. Once you had that in your sites, you should always be able to find your way home.

That's what your dad used to say anyway. He would say things like that when he had sober moments and remembered that he was supposed to be taking care of you and your brother, and not the other way around.

Trying your best to block the memories from revealing themselves, you stood up and started towards the house before the tears started to burn hot under your eye lids. In the distance, the glow of a cigarette floated on the porch and you knew Daryl was there.

Unable to avoid another interaction with him, you strode up to the house and walked up the porch, offering him pleasant smile and nod hello. Hoping he would just leave you be, you tried to just go inside and upstairs, but Daryl had other plans.

"Hey," he said, exhaling a puff of smoke, "hang out a sec." He emerged from the shadows and motioned for you to come sit.

"Any food left?" you asked as he sat on the steps next to you.

"Yeah, I think Carol stuck a plate in the fridge for ya," Daryl exhaled again then looked at you. You got the feeling he was working up the courage to ask you something. Feeling like you might scream if one more person asked you if you were okay, you decided to once again make a preemptive strike.

"I am fine, you don't have to ask."

"Wasn't gonna. Well, wasn't gonna ask that anyway," Daryl said and snuffed out his cigarette on his shoe. He knew better than to toss them in the yard, Carol would have a fit. "Besides, I know you ain't fine. So why bother askin'."

You appreciated his honesty and let him continue.

"Don't think I ever got to ask you..."

"Ask me what?"

"The questions. I mean, I guess they're kinda pointless now, but I'm curious," Daryl narrowed his gaze at you, the weight of which started to feel heavy on your skin.

"What questions?"

"How many walkers you killed?"

You snorted a laugh. "Really? Um, I dunno... more than some, not as many as others."

"How many people?"

That question made your skin grow cold. When you hesitated to answer, Daryl repeated the question and you squeezed your eyes shut. You knew that Daryl and Rick have had to kill people. You saw it firsthand. But would they accept your answer?

A half-dozen possible answers swirled through your head. You could lie, you could tell him a partial truth... and before Daryl repeated it for a third time, you finally answered.

"Too many," you said and hugged your knees tight to your chest. All the emotions that you've tried to shove down into the depths of your being suddenly sprung free.

Daryl gave you a sideways glance and swallowed hard. "Why?" he asked, his voice low.

"Because I wasn't paying attention," you sighed, eyes fixed straight ahead.

"What does that mean?" Daryl asked

You turned and tried to read his expression. The moonlight gave enough illumination to see concern on his face, and you knew that you had to tell him. You could've lied, but now that it was out there, you had to lay out the rest as well.