Daryl.
There ain't nothing sweet, or good, or pure about me. My old man never patted me on the back when I'd done a good job like the other kids I knew. I ain't never ate birthday cake on my birthday or kissed a virgin girl. Everything I ever had was second hand, stale, or broken; just like me. That's why I don't mind this new world. That's why I'm alive.
Most people I've met the last few years say the worst day of their lives was the day the virus went global, or the day the person they loved the most turned from living - to dead - to the undead. But not me. The worst day of my life was the day we lost the prison.
Before the world turned to shit, nobody ever cared much where I'd go, who I's with, when I'd come home, if I'd come home. I always did what I'd want. The first time anybody ever cared about me, ME as a real person, was in the prison. The first person to ever ask me what I thought, like I really knew something, was Hershel in one of our council meetings. That day I started living. That day I learned to respect and to be respected.
That's why the day my friends and I lost the prison to the walkers was the worst day of my life. For the first time, I knew what it was like to be depended on and to depend on. I fucked it up. I was supposed to protect them. They weren't like me; they had memories of birthday parties, clean sheets and being in love. I was supposed to keep their memories and optimism alive, but I failed them, the only people who ever needed me for anything.
The first few days after Hershel's murder are a little hazy. I only remember bits of time, almost like when Merle and I'd gone on these three or four day benders. Nothing really made sense when I opened my eyes. I felt like like hell, had the temper of a honey badger and sitting cross legged across the fire from me was Beth Greene.
She was the last person I wanted to see. I was glad Maggie and Glenn weren't there to look at me and see the failure smeared across my face. I wanted to wallow in my own grief. All I could think about was staying far away from her. All I wanted was to be alone. All I wanted was for everything to be the way it used to be. All I wanted was for everyone to be safe, to be alive. But what I wanted never mattered none. I'm just me.
I never thought of Beth as weak. Her emotions were ironclad, probably because she was so young when all the shit hit the fan. But losin' her dad was all over her face. You could see her pain in the way she held her shoulders, in the way she stared at me with angry tears in her eyes. I could feel her anger and disappointment seeping off of her, drifting across the coals that divided us, choking me with her invisible slimy hatred. I am the reason her dad and sister are dead. I am the reason we are the only ones left. I am the reason we'll never have a family again. I am an asshole.
The only chance at redemption I have left is to stay alive, so I can keep her alive. No matter how much I hate living.
Coming soon… Beth copes with being in such close proximity as the brooding redneck.