The sun's hot on m'skin. So hot. It has no right t'be shining so brightly, really. But maybe it's good. It's scorching, burning us. Burnin' me.
What a fucking failure I am. Knew I was, from when I was small. Been tol' enough times. Merle, pa. An' they were right. But at least then, nobody died when I fucked up. Now somebody dies every fucking time I turn m'back.
This cigarette tastes like ass. Why did I even light it? Stupid question, I know t'answer. Sure as hell ain't cos I need a break, or deserve one, or anything nice, really. Carol keeps talkin' like I'm a fuckin' hero. I'm not. I know it, why can nobody else see the truth?
I'm an illiterate redneck, or close enough to it to make no fuckin' difference. Fuck, I can hardly see for t'tears spilling over now…
Used t'be different. Used t'think it was them who was wrong. Who weren't zen enough to deal with this shit. Now I know better.
Truth is, I knew better then. Even then, at the very start. They jus' tolerated me, let me tag along. I was useful, sometimes. Kept food on the table, or the fucking camp fire, rather. They made me feel good about it too, cos they were afraid. Afraid t'go hungry, be walker chow. Weaklings.
No, not true. They aren't. Rick… he ain't no weakling. But I should've known, that it was no good, way back when I couldn't save Sophia. One little girl, an' I failed. She was in the barn, all along. I still have nightmares 'bout it. Makes me sick, puke m'guts out, sometimes, when noone's lookin'.
Beth, she asked me. Did I ever cut m'wrists to get attention. No, I said, and had a drink anyway. But I did. Cut, I mean. Not my wrists, too obvious. Thighs, ankles, belly. Not fo' attention tho. Did it so I wouldn' go mad, jump off a bridge.
Now she's dead, too. Beth. Didn' really get me, any better than the rest of 'em. But she made me feel ok, a bit, sometimes. Her singing did, for sure. And when she held me…
But it's not her I want t'hold me, not really. It's… oh, never mind! Ain't gonna happen now. Too late. Too many chances missed. Fuck, but I'm tired…
I want t'get away, so much it makes m'skin hurt. Like I'm on fire and I can' just crawl out, leave it behind. Leave the scars behind, start new. But what would it be like, starting again with no skin? Think I saw a movie once like that. Made me puke. Or maybe t'was Merle's moonshine. I don't remember.
Carol knows now, of course. Knows what pa did. Merle knew, and he didn't give a shit. Just wen' off, left me there. 'm used to it, people leaving me behind. Don't mean it gets any easier, or better. Still hurts t'same, one hundred ninetieth time as much as t'first. Maybe I'm better off on m' own, even after all this.
But that won't do. We got Judith, and Carl. Fuck, I don't want anything t'happen t'them. Or t'… never mind, don't think about it, Dixon. Don't think. End of.
God, I'm thirsty, and so fucking tired…
The cigarette burn feels good, actually. Helps me not think, like it's always done. Drown out that fucking chorus, that pain, that… I don' know. Just being me. Being Daryl Dixon.
Better get back t'th'others. Who knows what the fuck's happened t'them, t'state we're all in…