"Darylina"
There he was; winded, arrow through his side, climbing in vain through the thick shrubbery up the steep hill. Daryl gasped and whimpered as he tried to pull forward. This was the hardest challenge he'd faced in a while. Just as he started to give up he heard an all too familiar voice….
"Please don't stop to feed the birds."
The voice startled the small man, sending chills up his spine.
"How.."
That was all the sweet red neck could wonder before that eerie voice continued to haunt him
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He was twelve again, being summoned by a drunken older brother. He tried to make his way through the debris that was cluttered though the house; nothing had been the same since Ma died. On the outside the house still looked ok but on the inside massive burn marks remained, the singed bed springs of a mattress lay-up right in the hall way throughout the trash and clutter of hunting gear, antlers, and whatever else. The young boy quietly crept through that horrible maze of tearful memories to find Merle sprawled out on his bed. The green sheets were hanging off the bed showing bare mattress. A bottle of Everclear sat half empty on the make-shift table made out of milk crates. The room was, like the rest of the house, in shambles, clothing everywhere. The boy's eyes drew to his big brother, his care taker, the one in charge. He looked around fearfully, trying not to stare him in the eye. He wasn't up to being accused of trying to challenge Merle again. Head tilted in fright he looked toward the drunk to find out what he could want.
"M'ere boy, try this on."
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He was back, shaken out of his stupor by that voice. How could he be hearing his big brother, who's only remains were one right hand? He tugged the vine for dear life as he remembered the feat that lie ahead. Daryl was trying to trudge through his uphill battle but gravity was against him. Gasping and whimpering along through the immense pain his small body was throbbing with he went forward. Still the taunting continued…
"What's the matter Darylina?"
It was that name. The fucking name! He stopped dead, frozen with the rushing memories he couldn't control. Darylina. The terror he felt, cold chills that almost numbed his pain. Darylina.
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Merle's eyes rolled over to the bed in the confusion of items there was one set apart from the mess. It was Mom's dress that lay there, sticking out like a sore thumb. Brightly colored, it was something out of the sixties that a hooker might wear. It made sense, for unfortunately the woman was of the cheap sort.
"Go on baby brother, slip her on."
He was scared, knowing it was wrong, but not wanting to upset Merle, especially in the given state he was in. The timid boy cautiously made his way to his older brother's bed, standing right next to where the dress was.
"You want me to put that on?"
He whispered while pointing to the dress. Fright took over his whole body. He was in a spot he'd never been in before. Merle cleared his throat loudly, scaring the younger one out of his skin. He immediately flinched an arm out toward the dress, yet not touching it, the forbidden territory. "Why would he want me to put on Ma's stuff?" Daryl thought.
"You better move your sweet ass Darylina."
"Sweet ass." Why is he talking like this? "Why is he calling me Darylina? Darylina?"
Merle stood up and the blonde tried to grab the dress really quick, but was pushed against the wall by the big brother. His shirt was pulled off through his feeble attempts to keep it on. He cowered away but not too far because he knew it was futile. The big man pushed his shoulder against the wall, knocking him sideways. Before Daryl, not this "Darylina", could make a move the big drunk's hands wrapped around his narrow waist, undoing the worn belt and pulling his pants down to reveal old ripped tighty-whities. Embarrassed he attempted to shield himself. This only made Merle laugh.
"Oh, you gut sumthin' I ain't never seen? Is that it Darylina?"
He stumbled over to the dress and began to put it over his brother's little body. It was ill-fitting as to be expected on a twelve year old boy.
"Now get purdy." Merle insisted.
He handed Daryl a small make up bag covered in canceler power. Shaking he pulled the few things that were not ruined or covered in other make-up.
"Put this on."
The big man grinned as he pulled out ruby red lipstick, handing it to the shivering boy. He tried in vain to put on the lipstick, eye-liner, blush, and eye-shadow. Just as the dress it was off-center and strange to the body it was on.
"Do it right!"
A scream broke the silence. Merle was getting mad, real mad. The blonde was scrambling to please his brother.
"Sorry Merle." He squeaked.
"Come here you little sweet thing."
Merle said with a devilish smile. He pulled his baby brother closer and sat on the bed. He was twenty-three years old, almost twice the age of Daryl. He sat on the edge of his bed and pulled him close so he was standing in front of the big drunk man. Holding his hands on his small hips, he began to trail one hand down.
"Relax baby brother."
He grabbed the blonde by the back of his head and pulled him toward him. Merle started to try and sloppy kiss him, smearing the red lipstick all over the place. This wasn't really satisfying to the bigger man due to the lack of response on his little brother's end.
The boy had never kissed anyone in his life, not even a goodnight peck from his Ma at night. He had no idea how to act. Dad was only there for a short while; after Ma died he spilt. And even though he was only good for beating Daryl, he still missed him and for the past six years. Hope still remained that one day he'd come back, if only just to get his stuff. So never having had any sort of non-violent contact before he had no idea how to react
Merle put his pointer finger in his own mouth in a lustful manner. After it was moistened with his alcohol-laced saliva he reached behind his brother and when for his back side. With his other hand he pulled up their mother's dress.
"Don't you look so sweet, you purdy lil' thin'."
He slid his finger inside the blonde, causing a gasp in pain. His tiny whine turned Merle on. His finger had a hard time fitting as it was jammed in there. That led the bigger brother to bliss.
"You are the tightest bitch I ever seen." Merle said with a whistle.
He excitedly picked up his brother and whirled him onto the bed. Daryl gasped as he hit the sheets. This was all new to him and he was still trying to understand it all. Why did he need the dress? Why did he need the make-up? And what did Merle just do? But before he had any time to think something else unexpected happened. He was picked up and thrown to the edge of the bed and suddenly his legs were spread apart by one of Merles feet sliding side to slide. He was so hot and bothered, grunting loudly as he unbuttoned his pants. He was hard as a rock. Before Daryl could move, think, or do anything, Merle penetrated his virgin little brother. He never felt pain so sharp that also burned so bad. His small hand scrambled behind him to push away the bigger man; it was useless. Normally he would hurt or restrain Daryl for the disobedience but he was too caught up in the moment.
"Merle!?"
The blonde started as tears filled his eyes. If he could catch his breath, his tears would have been louder.
"Shut up girl, you been tease ol' Merle shaking that ass all around the house."
He managed to get out in between thrusts. Daryl was gripping the sheets into tight fists, he began to yell and cry. That didn't really matter as they were home alone, but still the bigger brother grew angry.
"Can it you little dry whore!"
Even though he hated the idea of not complying he truly couldn't this time.
"Stay still Darylina."
One strong hand moved from the boys hips to the curve of his shoulder and neck, again gripping tight. He was thrusting faster and faster while the cries grew louder and louder until suddenly he groaned really loud and pushed deep into Daryl, released, then loosened all his grips. He was breathing heavily as he lit a cigarette and buttoned his pants. He walked around the foot of his bed where the smaller brother still stay, dress hiked up at his waist. He was still crying and bleeding pretty badly.
"Y'know you oughta climb more trees like ya us'ta when you was little, strengthin' ya shoulders."
He spoke like nothing happened, smoke streaming out of his two nostrils. The blonde stood there in shock.
"I will."
He flinched, scared he'd be struck. But Merle was satisfied and slowly passing out.
"Take that shit off and get up outta my room."
Merle slurred. As soon as the smaller brother moved he knew the gravity of the situation. The pain was very real. Merle began to yell but he was quickly interrupted, for once, by his scared brother.
"I-I can't undo it." He yelped. "The back, I can't undo the back."
Tears streamed down his face as he struggled with the zipper, too sore to actually just pull it over his head. Merle grabbed him roughly and tore it off him, sending him naked into the dirty hall. The drunk stumbled back into his room slamming the door. What he did might affect him if he even remembered it in the morning, but to Daryl it was very real and ingrained in his mind. He made it two steps before he collapsed, crouching down, sobbing his heart out.
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Those memories came rushing back as Daryl pulled up the hill, finally wanting the justice he felt he deserved. He was going to stand up to Merle. As he got to the top ready for a fight, Merle was gone.
