Hello, and welcome. This is C. Teden, throwing a poorly-written fanfic your way. I've been trying to work on how I write stuff, like descriptions and not overusing words. So here it is.
I've always been a bit down about how I write, in fact there are quite a few fanfictions I have written that I didn't publish out of fear that someone will say it's shit. But I need to get over that.
I don't usually like AUs, particularly ones where there isn't a zombie apocalypse when the story the fiction is based on is about a zombie apocalypse. I have MonDieu666 to thank for that. Their Spiced Molasses story really tugged at my heart strings.
I own nothing *cries into pillow because I have nothing to call my own*
Chapter 1- The First Chapter
The moonlight was so delicate that night, it deserved to be appreciated. But Daryl Dixon wasn't the man for the job. As he sped off down the highway in his brother's jeep, he couldn't stop the anger surging through his veins. Another conquest involving a drunken Merle and a pissed off bartender. It couldn't have been more of a nuisance. Daryl was finally getting alone time with his thoughts, he could clean up their dilapidated trailer without snarky remarks from Merle. He could shower without the "who you tryin'a impress, Darylina?"
Daryl could only get as far as a freezing shower with no soap, and a drunken call from Merle came hurling his way. Still soaked, he threw on his clothes and set off in the old jeep that had miraculously survived three years with Merle Dixon. When he arrived at this small town in the middle of nowhere, he was stopped by a woman. She looked worried.
"S'cuse me, sir." She called out, even though he was barely a meter away from her. She really didn't need to shout.
"What you want?" Daryl was surprised with the gruffness of his tone. He could never keep his temper inside, he just had to lash out at everyone. Her brow creased in anguish, but she didn't look angry.
"You haven't seen this girl around here, have you?" She replied, tossing him a photo of a smiling girl.
Daryl waited a few moments before answering, did he see this girl?
"Nah, I ain't seen her." He paused in thought, studying the picture for a beat before handing it back over. "She looks a little young to be outside by herself, 'specially at night."
"Well, take my dad's number. If you see her, please just give us a call?" She offered a weak smile and turned on her heel. Poor woman looked so sad, her laugh lines were fading. He didn't know her story, but something had gone down. Her eyes were glazed over by tears. Her face didn't look like it should be sad. Whoever this girl was, she was pretty damn selfish causing such heartbreak.
"Kids runnin' around wild these days. Idiots..." He hissed as he took a turning towards the bar where his brother was most likely overstaying his welcome.
Daryl never realised how much he loathed being inside buildings until he squeezed into this tiny bar on the edge of nowhere. How Merle found this place would be a story nobody would know. Merle wouldn't even know on account of his drunken state. There'll be a tale to tell, though. A bar fight, a 'lucky' prostitute, a stupid tattoo. Luckily there wasn't a tattoo parlour in this town, or hookers. It was far too pleasant for his liking. Daryl cleared his throat to catch the attention of the bartender, who looked worn out. Anyone dealing with Merle always compared him to a sugar-rushed kid.
"Is Merle here?" Nothing. "Baldin', causin' a lotta trouble."
"Thank God you're here! He passed out in the booth over there. He's been harassin' customers ever since he got here!" the sheer relief rushing through the bartender's face was endearing. Daryl had gotten used to being the sensible Dixon, people would respect him for helping. It was like he was doing his bit for the community.
He turned away from the bar, catching sight of the unconscious Merle. As he strode towards the booth, he forced all of his anger to the back of his mind. When left to his own devices, Merle was like Armageddon. Having to babysit your older brother, who was a grown man, was embarrassing. He emitted the stench of booze, the smell all too familiar of their father. Daryl shook his head, as if he was literally shaking the thoughts out of his mind.
"Come on, Merle. We're gettin' outta here." Daryl huffed as he dragged his brother out of the bar. The fucker was heavier than the last time they had to do this. He threw open the back passenger door, and stuffed Merle in the Jeep. He slumped to the side, only stirring a little from the disturbed sleep. Daryl knew this night would end in a fight if Merle woke up, he was unusually stronger and more aggressive when drunk. Just like their father...
He drove away from the bar, letting it become just another memory left behind them. Hopefully Merle wouldn't want to go back there. He held onto Merle's wallet, and leafed through the old leather flaps. No money at all.
"$200 in one night?" Daryl couldn't decide where to be impressed or ashamed. He worked for that money, it was supposed to keep them alive for the next month. Back to hunting squirrels and deer for food. Back to being dehydrated all the time. Daryl couldn't take more of living like this. His thoughts wandered back to the woman looking for that girl, but he had no idea why... Until it hit him.
Just a mile back he saw the girl.
I'm sorry you just read that crap. I probably wasted your time. Please review to tell me what you think!
