When the dead rise to feast on the living, it becomes nearly impossible to keep yourself, and your family, safe from anything.
For Daryl Dixon, that statement couldn't have been more true. As the apocalypse turns the world into a cruel, cruel place...
Ezekiel looked at me with a pitiful expression, and a part of me disliked that he felt bad for me. But, another part knew that it could be used to my advantage.
"I'm sorry this has happened to you," Ezekiel began, seeming entirely sincere. "You're story is one of sorrow, and horrors that should never be bestowed upon a human being. I would wish that upon no one, especially not a soul as kind as your own... You have a way with words, Miss Sidney. I will have to think on this concept, whether to assist you in your war, but I believe you have begun to persuade me in your favor."
He gave me a soft smile, and I flat-out grinned right back at him.
That was the best news I had heard in what felt like forever.
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I made my way back to the cabin after Ezekiel and I concluded our conversation, and when I got back, I found that Dad was nowhere to be seen. I wasn't entirely worried, but I did walk around the community, making sure he didn't leave and try to go back to Alexandria.
I eventually spotted him out at the archery practice range, a crossbow held tight in his hands. One of the Kingdom guards, Richard, was with him, and they seemed to be holding conversation.
I had an internal battle with myself, debating whether I should head over there or not, before I finally began walking the other direction. Dad seemed okay right then, calm; I didn't want to ruin that for him.
I made my way back to the cabin, and just tidied up a bit. I was trying to busy myself with miscellaneous tasks, just to take my mind off of the reality I was trapped in. I didn't know how well it was working, but it was the only thing I could do to take my mind off things. If I wasn't doing anything, horrid memories would fill my head, and once they did, I couldn't get rid of them.
I wasn't sure how much time had passed before I heard another set of footsteps in the cabin, immediately making my heart rate increase. I leaned out from the doorway to my bedroom, and saw Dad in the kitchen, washing his hands in the basin. He must've sensed my gaze, because he turned to look at me almost instantly. I flashed him an uncertain smile, and his eyes drifted away from mine before he gave me a nod in acknowledgment.
I debated whether to return to writing in my journal, but after a second, I stood up, walking over to the doorframe that led into the common area. I leaned against the wood, looking down at the floor, ashamed.
"I know you don't wanna hear this from me, but... I am sorry, Dad..."
He froze, allowing the water from the faucet to continue to run. I kept my distance, remaining still and staying silent as I waited on him to speak. There were so many things unsaid between us, so much tension. We needed to address so many things, but both of us were too scared, too hurt, to even try.
Eventually, his voice came from him, soft, and almost caring. "Yeah, I know... that don't make it okay, Sid."
My breathing shuddered, and I looked up to him, a silent plead in my eyes. "Then, what will?"
He still didn't look at me; he kept his gaze trained on the countertop in front of him. I could still see, though, he was aching to ask me something, to talk to me like he used to. He didn't like the tension between us, and neither did I, but there were too many unsaid words for everything to be okay. Too many things had gone wrong.
"Sid, I-... I jus' don't know," he admitted, shaking his lowered head.
As much as I understood how hurt and angry he must've been, in a way, I wanted him to understand what I was feeling, too. He had a right to be sorry just as much as I did. I was terrified when he hit me - it was the worst feeling I'd ever had - and he never apologized.
"You know," I said quietly, avoiding eye contact, "I know you can't accept my apology.. but you hit me, Dad... and never apologized."
I shyly glanced at him side ways, and saw the anger in his eyes quickly fade to guilt. A whole lot of it. He bit his lip, and looked up from the countertop, glaring out through the window above the sink. The sunlight shining through the window illuminated the tears in his eyes, and I looked away at that sight.
To my surprise, he didn't say anything, not even the slightest apology.
He stepped away from the counter, walked right past me, and stormed out the door.
AN: HOLY RAVIOLI THANK YOU ALL FOR 10K READS!!!❤️❤️💛💛💜💜💖💖
