~Day sixty-two~
The quarry that was once alive with laughter and chatter was now a desolate place, filled with silent grief and whispered quarrels.
The crackling of the burning pyres added a somber soundtrack to the scene, casting flickering shadows that danced over the faces of the mourning survivors. The smoke from the fires rose in a thick plume, blackening the sky and obscuring the sun.
The smell of charred flesh was nauseating, but no one complained. They knew that it was necessary to dispose of the bodies before they attracted the attention of any more walkers.
Sophia and Daisy, inseparable since breakfast, clung to each other with a newfound strength in the face of such pain.
In the wake of a tragedy that had shattered their group, they found refuge in each other's company.
Carl trailed behind them, keeping a respectful distance. He could sense the weight of their sorrow, the heaviness of their hearts and minds.
He knew they needed each other, and he was content to give them space to mourn in their own way.
It was as if they were in a world of their own, a world that no one else could penetrate. Sophia was no longer at Carol's side, and Daisy had distanced herself from T-Dog and Glenn.
They existed in a bubble, their own little universe, where the pain of the outside world could not reach them. Their silence was harrowing, a mournful melody that hung in the air.
Even those with only half a brain could tell that they were both deeply affected by what had happened.
The camp was awash with sadness, but Sophia and Daisy's grief seemed to permeate every nook and cranny. Their sorrowful aura infected even the most stoic of survivors, leaving a sense of melancholy in its wake.
Carl was haunted by the sight of his dear friends, now mere phantoms of their former selves.
Lori drifted through the camp. Her gentle touch was a salve for the weary, a caress that eased the ache of their battered souls as she offered comfort where she could.
She spoke softly to the children, offering them words of hope and encouragement. And when she came to Andrea and Carol, she held them close, offering her own grief as a shared burden.
Sophia and Daisy laid on the sun-kissed ground, a patchwork of yellow grass and dry earth beneath them - their hands intertwined. The sky above was a canvas of blue and white, the clouds drifting like ghosts through the endless expanse.
Sophia pointed out the shapes, a dog, a bird, a face, but Daisy remained silent, and still, her eyes unfocused.
Carl sat behind them, his legs folded and his eyes entranced by the kaleidoscope of hues and words that danced on the pages of his comic book.
He cast a furtive glance at Andrea, who cradled Amy in her arms, swaying gently to the rhythm of her sobs. He couldn't help but wonder when she would turn.
Sophia and Daisy struggled to reconcile the events of the night before. The shadows of the past loomed over them, casting a pall on their spirits.
They sought to turn away from the grim fate that awaited Amy, not wishing to confront the suffering that had gripped their group.
"I wish we could just forget," Sophia spoke softly, as if her words alone could banish the pain they felt.
Carl nodded solemnly, understanding the urge to flee from the terrors that encircled them. But he knew that they couldn't simply wish it all away.
Daisy held tightly to Sophia's hand, a wordless gesture of solidarity.
"Forgetting can be scarier than remembering," she whispered, her words tinged with a sense of foreboding.
It was as if she bore a burden that no one else could see.
Sophia and Carl exchanged worried glances, sensing the gravity of Daisy's words. "What do you mean?" Carl asked, his voice edged with concern.
"It's hard to explain," Daisy said finally, "Sometimes I see things, but they're not clear. Like...like when you try to remember a dream, but it's all fuzzy."
Carl's brows knitted together like intertwined vines, worry carved deep lines on his face. With a gentle tone, he asked, "What kind of things?"
"Just... I see images. People...and blood, and this broken window. And...and I think I hear screaming, but it's like it's far away?" she said, her voice quivering and her words tumbling out.
In this new world, Daisy was grateful for the moments of blissful ignorance spawned by Merlin and his ideologies, the gaps in her memory that shielded her from the horrors that surrounded them. But there were other times when she felt like a crucial piece of herself had been ripped away.
She wanted to tell Glenn and T, to seek comfort in their understanding, but fear held her back. What if they thought she was crazy, or weak?
"I don't want to see those things," she whispered, her words a feeble murmur amidst the clamor of the world. "But they keep coming back. And I can't stop them."
As she spoke, the other children around her shifted uncomfortably, unsure of how to respond to her words .But Daisy didn't need them to understand.
She just needed to speak the truth, to voice the thoughts that had been haunting her for so long
Carl closed his comic book, placing it beside him on the grass. "We'll figure this out together, Daisy," he said, his voice steady and reassuring. "We'll help you remember, if that's what you want."
Daisy's eyes flickered with a mix of hope and fear. She opened her mouth to speak, but before she could say anything, the sound of Glenn's voice broke through the fragile silence. His desperate pleas filled the air, drowning out any other sound.
"We don't burn them!"
His voice cracked with emotion, but his eyes flashed with a fierce determination. "We bury them!"
"Our people go in that row over there!" He demanded, pointing towards a row of freshly dug graves that were still waiting to be filled.
But Daryl was not convinced. His frustration and anger boiled just below the surface, like a coiled serpent waiting to strike.
"That's what y'all get!" he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "Left my brother for dead!"
The children huddled together, their faces pale and their expressions unsure at the sudden outburst. Fear and tension hung heavily in the air.
The silence that followed was heavy, oppressive, suffocating. It seemed as though the entire world was holding its breath, waiting to see what would happen next.
But it was short-lived.
"A walker bit Jim!" The panicked voice shattered the stillness, sending shockwaves through the group.
Daisy's bag fell from her chest, forgotten in the sudden rush of fear and anxiety as she sat up. Her material items could no longer comfort her.
Jim was bit?
The camp members swarmed around the trembling man, their faces etched with a mix of pity and revulsion.
Daryl's pickaxe was raised, a warning to him, a warning to anyone who might try to interfere.
"I'm okay!" Jim's voice was high and pleading, as he picked up a shovel for self-defense. "I'm okay!"
"I'm okay!"
But it was too late. T-dog had already grabbed the man's arms, holding him steady as Daryl lifted his shirt.
And there it was. An ugly looking bite mark, seeping blood and pus, a testament to the merciless power of the undead.
"Jim..." Daisy's whisper was barely audible, lost in the chaos and confusion that surrounded them all.
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The scene was eerily silent as the group of adults stood in a tight circle, their faces etched with worry and fear.
It was as though they were a group of mourners gathered around a grave, mourning a life that had not yet ended.
Daisy watched from a distance, her heart heavy with the weight of the situation. She sat with Sophia and the other children, but her mind was elsewhere. She couldn't shake off the image of Jim's face, twisted in fear.
Daisy stood up. Her legs were trembling, but she was resolute. She had to do something, and so she set her bag down for the first time since last night.
She took a deep breath and started walking towards the circle of adults. The other children looked at her with confusion and concern, but she kept walking.
Most of the adults didn't notice as Daisy approached, their faces still etched with worry.
She pushed gingerly beside Morales, who glanced at her with a mixture of confusion and amusement.
It felt like the weight of the world was on their shoulders. They were in a difficult situation, and they knew it.
Daryl's voice was hard and uncompromising as he angrily spoke. "Lines pretty clear. Zero tolerance for walkers."
But Daisy Linette was not deterred. She had made up her mind, and she would not be silenced.
"Please," she said, her voice shaking. "Don't kill Mr. Jim"
The adults stared down at Daisy with surprise and disbelief. They hadn't expected one of the children to speak up like this, especially not the youngest.
But Daisy was not done.
"You have to try," she said, her voice growing stronger. "He needs our help, not our fear."
She could feel the weight of everyone's gaze on her. Lori's eyes bore into hers with a sharpness that could cut glass.
Despite the pressure, Daisy adamently refused to back down, refused to show how scared she truly felt.
For once, she stood confident.
Jim looked at Daisy with tears pricked in the corner of his eyes, as if her words had touched something deep within him. For the first time in a long time, he felt a glimmer of hope in the midst of the despair that had engulfed him.
The group remained quiet for a moment, as if pondering Daisy's words. And then, one by one, they began to nod in agreement.
It was as though her words had pierced through their anger and frustration, reminding them of the values they had once held dear.
Even Daryl, who was fuming mere moments ago, reluctantly calmed down.
He looked at Daisy, then to Jim, then back to Daisy again. He set his pickaxe down, embedding it in the ground, and let out a deep sigh.
Rick stepped forward and gestured toward Jim.
"You're right, Daisy," he said, looking around at the rest of the group. "We can't just kill him. We'll do what we can to help him."
"Even if that means just making him comfortable." He added.
"Daisy," Shane said, putting a hand on her back, "This is an adult conversation."
Daisy felt a pang of disappointment, as if her moment of bravery had been overlooked. But Glenn came to her rescue, grasping her hand and pulling her away from the group.
"C'mon, Daisy," he said, "You don't wanna be around all the bickering. Let's go see if we can find some snacks or something."
Daisy walked alongside Glenn, her little hand tightly gripping his as they made their way to their tent. The adrenaline that had fueled her bravery earlier had worn off, leaving her feeling exhausted.
"I was scared," Daisy admitted softly, breaking the silence between them. "For Mr. Jim."
Glenn squeezed her hand reassuringly. "You're brave, Daisy. You did the right thing. Jim doesn't deserve to go like that. Nobody does."
"I'm proud of you."
Daisy nodded, her mind still reeling from everything.
"Glenn?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "Is everything going to be okay?"
The question made Glenn stop in his tracks, turning to look down at Daisy with a pained expression.
He knew that things were far from okay, that their world had been turned upside down, and they were all just trying to survive.
"Yeah, Dais," he said, his voice soft and gentle. "We'll be okay."
The camps' sudden complete silence became deafening, and everyone turned to face the Harrison siblings as Amy stirred.
She was turning.
Glenn pulled Daisy in close, covering her ears as a single gunshot rang out.
The "funeral" that followed made Daisy feel numb. She couldn't muster any tears, but her little hands were shaking as she stood there, watching as Andrea laid Amy's cloth-covered body into the grave.
Dale tried to help, but Andrea refused. "I can do it," she said firmly, determination etched on her face.
And she did it. She lied Amy gently to eternal rest.
Daisy stood there, her eyes fixated on the motion of the shovel, feeling as though the whole world had gone quiet. She felt the weight of the moment, heavy and burdensome, on her small shoulders.
She realized that from that moment on, every happy memory her and Amy had shared together would be tainted with the bitter taste of loss.
As the last scoop of dirt was laid on top of the grave, Daisy felt a single tear slide down her cheek. It was as though the weight of the moment had finally caught up with her.
But even then, she knew that life would go on. That the sun would rise again, and the world would keep turning. And she would be there, brave and strong, ready to face whatever came her way.
She refused to be a ghost any longer.
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The members of the group gathered around the entrance to the quarry, their faces filled with a mixture of determination and apprehension.
Rick and Shane stood at the forefront, taking charge and giving everyone instructions for their journey towards the CDC.
Shane looked around at the group, making sure everyone was ready. "Any questions?" he asked, his voice filled with a mix of concern and authority.
Morales spoke up, his voice firm but filled with a tinge of sadness. "We're not going," he said. "We have family in Birmingham. We want to be with our people."
Shane's eyebrows furrowed in disappointment. "You'll be on your own," he warned. "You won't have anyone to watch your back."
Morales nodded resolutely. "We'll take the chance," he replied. "Gotta do what's best for my family."
Rick looked at them, his eyes searching for any signs of doubt. "You're sure about this?" he asked.
Morales nodded again. "We talked about it. We're sure," he affirmed.
In response, Rick handed them a gun and a box of ammunition. "The box is half-full," he said, a gesture of goodwill in the face of their departure.
Daryl couldn't help but scoff at the scene, turning away with a mixture of disappointment and frustration.
As the group prepared to part ways, they hugged each other tightly, tears streaming down their faces. It was a difficult moment, saying goodbye to friends and loved ones, not knowing what the future held.
Eliza approached Sophia and handed her a doll. Then she turned to Daisy, a small inhaler in her hand. "I found it on the ground," she explained. "I knew it was yours."
Daisy nodded gratefully, accepting the inhaler and carefully placing it in her cloth holder. She had lost it before because it hadn't been properly secured, but this time, she made sure to close it tightly.
"Channel 40 if you change your minds," Rick called out, a final lifeline extended to those who had decided to stray.
"Come on, let's move out," Shane commanded, the group understanding that it was time to begin their journey towards the CDC.
And so, they set off in their convoy, the sound of engines roaring to life filling the air.
Daisy had initially wanted to be with Glenn, T, and Dale in the RV, but Glenn insisted she stay with the other children in the Cherokee, away from the potential danger that Jim posed.
However, it didn't take long for the RV to stall, bringing the entire convoy to a halt. Daisy and Sophia had been exhausted from the previous night, their lack of sleep catching up with them.
They leaned against each other, eventually drifting off into the inky abyss of much-needed rest.
A/N: Ayo, character development time for little Daisy!
Off topic, but yall I started watching game of thrones for the first time and im only on season one but its just so goooood ✋️