Okay so this is my first fanfic and I'm not even sure if I'm uploading this correctly so I apologize for anything I'm doing wrong. Umm so I guess I'm suppose to rate this...umm 'T' I guess okay and Im also suppose to say that I don't own the walking dead or its characters blaw blaw blaw that stuff okay so...enjoy. I guess...

Chapter 1

I don't know what to do anymore...I gues I'm depressed. I don't know. It seems like it should be a pretty common thing being depressed n all cause of this stupid walker crap goin on. I don't know. Everyone else still seems like they can be happy even with decaying canibals walking around trying to kill them. I don't get it but I hope I do some day. And I hope that some day is soon. I just don't think I can do this anymore.

Daryl put down his notebook and

tucked it safely under his pillow. He didn't even bother to grab his crossbow as he trudged down the steps from his perch. Everyone knew there was something wrong with him but no one dared to approach him. No one but Carol.

He walked over to the rest of the group who were all planning the next run. They all stopped to look at him and when they did, he returned there stare with lost hazy eyes that seemed to say, 'I'm done.'

Noticing this, the group started to take in some concern for Daryl but would never dare talk to him about it. So they all looked to Carol who simply nodded her head and said, "I'll talk to him." And went off after the broken hunter.

She followed him into the kitchen where they could be alone. "Hey..." She whispered softly. No answer. "Umm...you okay?" Daryl simply grunted and moved farther away from her. Ignoring this, Carol took a step closer. "Are you okay?" She repeated a little more sternly. Usually she would be expecting the normal, 'course I am! Why the hell wouldn't I be?' answer from him, but instead just gets a painful whine somewhat like an injured animal.

Carol approached him slowly and placed a hand on his arm. Usually, he allowed this but for some reason jerked his arm away from her with another low whine. She was about to speak when he walked into the corner of the kitchen and sat down. He brought his knees up to his eyes and wrapped his arms around his head shielding his face.

Feeling a little bit more cautious, Carol walked up to him and put a hand on his back. The moment she touched him he tried to flinch back but the wall was stopping him. Realizing his discomfort, Carol took her hand away and not wanting to make any sudden movements as to startle him, she slowly walked out of the room.

Once out of the kitchen, Carol had to process what had just happened. Daryl was avoiding her. This wasn't good. She ran as fast as she could to find Rick, nearly smashing into him when she did.

"Whoa Carol what is it?" He said raising his hands up in surrender.

"It's Daryl! There's something wrong."

"Okay...where is he?"

"Come with me."

They found Daryl exactly where Carol had left him.

"Daryl?" Rick said trying to get Daryl's attention.

Daryl looked up at Rick and simply replied, "What?" It was a stern 'what'. One that seemed to say, 'Go away or else.'

"Just wonderin if ur okay is all..."

"Why?"

"Well cause we're all worried about you."

Daryl chuckled at that. They were worried about him. "Yeah right." He replied letting his head fall back down on his knees. "I'm nothing." He muttered softly.

"No. No your not. Your an important member of the group and you know it." Rick assured him.

"Whatever." Daryl signed as he got up slowly and walked back to his perch. The only thing he could think of was his knife. The knife he would use to end his life...

To be continued...