Note: I have written this as if the apocalypse has never taken place. Enjoy, and please, don't be afraid to tell me what you think :)
Refugee
Chapter One
"That oughtta do it." I tapped the dusty tailgate of my brother's blue '96 Ford F150 as he drove on down the road. I stood momentarily and watched until all traces of blue had disappeared, and breathed a long sigh of relief as I came up to my front door.
"Ya hear that, Daryl?" I asked myself with a cheesy grin. "Me neither." Quiet. A feeling of sheer excitement pulsated through every vein in my body. Finally alone in my own space.
This was the first time I had ever lived on my own. My brother, Merle, and I had lived under the same roof since we was kids and privacy had been close to non-existent. I had spent the last year-and-a-half of my life savin' up money from my job at Dixon's, my brother's auto shop, where we've both been working as mechanics since we was eighteen.
I pilfered through several of the crème-colored boxes stacked to high-heaven in my living room and kitchen. I found the box I was looking for, labeled dishes, barely legible in my shitty, chicken-scratch penmanship, and I began to officially unpack.
About an hour had passed, and I had managed to work my way through all of the boxes in the kitchen, so I moved my way into the living room. I inched my new big, brown couch (a gift from my brother) closer to the taupe colored wall and set up my favorite Leg Lamp on an old end table next to it. I didn't have much, so it was coming together rather quickly.
Moments later, I started setting up my computer on a desk in the corner, and was immediately delighted to see my screensaver of my favorite porn star pop up. I couldn't help but smile. Of all the things there were to be excited about, I couldn't wait to watch porn without seein' Merle's ugly mug bust through the damn door every five minutes.
It didn't take me long to realize that now is as good a time as any to take care of business, and I was sitting in the chair with my pants unbuttoned faster than you can say "gangbang". I went to my favorite site and scanned through the videos until I found something that piqued my interest. Hastily, I pulled out my entire length and started out with a nice, slow stroke until I worked my way up to a faster rhythm. I was getting so close to my sweet release, and then all of a sudden I heard a knock at my door.
I rolled my eyes with aggravation. You gotta be fuckin' kiddin' me.
I buttoned my pants back up and wiped my hands on my pants, as if that were a way to sanitize myself. I figured it must've been Merle bringing over another box I mighta' forgot, but when I opened my front door I couldn't have been more surprised. Standing on my front steps was a particularly nice pair of tan legs, attached to a rather attractive girl holding a glass tray full of brownies and looking up at me with a big, round, forrest-green pair of eyes. Her hair was a sexy crimson red, and she had a hoop in her left nostril. Definitely doesn't look like she's from around here.
"Hey." I greeted her.
"Hay is for horses." She grinned cheerily. "I'm Molly Millar." I watched the words roll off of her tongue.
She balanced the tray of brownies on one hand and extended her other arm. "Daryl Dixon." I obliged, and shook her hand. (Not with the hand you were thinkin' either.)
"Nice to meet you. I, erm, just wanted to bring these by and introduce myself." She handed me the tray.
"Thanks."
I watched as she ran her small hand through a strand of her dark, red hair and we stood silently. I'm sure she was waiting for me to say something, but I was too caught off guard to think of anything. Before I knew it she was saying "goodbye".
I've never been the type to be particularly smooth with the ladies. I'd blame it on the fact that my parents never taught me how to handle a woman right, but Merle manages to get a decent amount into his bed a couple nights a week. But there ain't no way in hell I'm askin' his ugly ass for advice. Most of 'em are drunk as a skunk by the time he takes 'em home anyway. That don't require no real talent. Or attraction.
I stood still for a moment and took advantage of the opportunity to watch her walk away. My ocean blue eyes eagerly took in every inch of her full figure, admiring the way that her tight brown dress and denim jacket hugged her curves so perfectly. Eventually she disappeared into a house a few doors down from mine.
As I shut the door behind me, I couldn't help but feel slightly disappointed in myself for not attempting to make conversation. She was kinda hot, in a different way. I should've at least tried.
I walked to the kitchen and fixed myself a glass of milk before I peeled the thin layer plastic wrap from the tray. I held a brownie up to my nose and took a short whiff. Smells good.
I took a rather large bite, and as soon as my taste buds touched the bitter, chocolate exterior I spit it right back out. Fuckin' awful.
