The peaceful sound of the fire crackling gently pulled me towards consciousness. I fought to return to sleep, though, wrapped in a warm cocoon of blankets, safe at home. I was vaguely aware that my head ached as my mother's hand gently stroked my cheek and then I heard a voice, the wrong voice, not my mother's, and I was scared.
"I'm sorry, Katherine." I heard a familiar voice say. Daryl. The sense of security vanished as I remembered that I wasn't at home, and that my family were dead. The unmistakable smell of blood tainted the air and I fought to keep the tears at bay.
I managed to keep my eyes shut and my breathing steady as if I was asleep. I heard a barely audible sigh and then Daryl placed a strong hand on my shoulder and gently nudged for me to wake up.
"Kat?" He said. "Katherine, wake up." My eyes slowly opened and I looked at Daryl, questioningly. I gingerly lifted my hand up to my head and found it bandaged. That simple gesture left me feeling weak and dizzy. Daryl held a bottle of water out for me to take and I gratefully accepted it.
"How long have I been out?" I asked him, between small sips.
"A few hours." He replied, and my eyes widened at his answer.
"A few hours?" I repeated in disbelief as the memories started to overwhelm me again. I felt a small tear trickle down my cheek and Daryl frowned when he noticed it.
"Why am I crying? I am so sick of crying." I said as I angrily wiped the tear away. I looked up at Daryl to see him watching me with a sad smile on his handsome features.
"I'm sorry bout' your parents... I know what it's like." Daryl admitted, looking extremely uncomfortable. "My mother died in a house fire when I was old enough to ride a bicycle. The fire was caused by her cigarette when she was asleep or possibly shit-faced drunk, I'm not sure." Daryl continued with a faraway look in his brown eyes. "On the other hand, my father was torn apart by the walkers. My half brother, Jess, had to put him out of his misery because I was too weak to do it."
The bitterness in Daryl's voice made my heart clench painfully as a horrific memory passed through my thoughts.
I grabbed my knife that Shane gave me earlier and I repeatedly slammed my knife into the skull of the walker which used to be my mother. I hit her again, and again, bashing her skull in until the bone split open and the brains spilled out across the passenger seat.
"When you lose someone, it stays with you. Always reminding you of how easy it is to get hurt." Daryl said quietly as he started to fiddle with his knife and I nodded, feeling numb from the effect that his words had on me.
"I'm sorry about your parent's deaths." I told Daryl as I gave him a weak smile.
"You've probably been through a hell of a lot worse that I did." Daryl admitted bitterly and his face hardened, "hell, my family was so broken, the only person that I knew for certain would never give up on me was Merle."
"Even if somebody else has it much worse, that doesn't really change the fact that you have what you have. Good and bad. " I honestly replied and Daryl nodded, deep in thought.
"We buried your parents. I came to wake you up for the funeral." Daryl suddenly announced and I visibly tensed at his words. I reluctantly nodded and followed him to the spot where three graves had been dug. The group crowded around the graves to pay their respects, but the only thing that registered to me in my grief was the small grave built for a child. Chris. My heart tightly clenched and the tears streamed down my face as I stared down at the graves which belonged to the people that I was certain I loved the most in this nightmare. I heard the voices of the group members, but I couldn't hear what they were saying because of the voice which belonged to someone who was supposed to be dead. The voice of my brother spoke unemotionally in my thoughts.
"You broke your promise. You promised that you would never leave me, but at the first chance that you got... You abandoned us. We died on that highway because of you." My brother's voice taunted me as a mixture of emotions viciously attacked my senses. Grief. Depression. Regret.
I sobbed in misery as the emotions started to control my actions and I dropped to my knees as the sobs wracked my body, painfully. I felt someone place a comforting hand on my shoulder and the old man kneeled down next to me with a worried look in his blue eyes.
"Katherine, you need to calm down." The old man started to say, but I disrupted him as I let out a violent sob. I gasped for air as my pained cries started to intensify and the sounds of pure grief filled the otherwise silent atmosphere.
"No! I can't... I can't... I can't... It's hurts. Just make it stop. Please, make it stop! It hurts." I wail sorrowfully, "Every time I let it sink in that I'm never going to see them again, I feel like I'm going to die."
To me at that moment, it felt like the whole world had ended as I let out another pained cry. I felt exposed and vulnerable by expressing my emotions in front of the group, but I couldn't control the way that I was reacting. I was crying so hard I could barely breathe.
A couple of agonising minutes passed as I clung to the old man for comfort. I was in a state of complete shock, unable to take in the fact that I would never see the smiling faces of my family members ever again.
"The worst day of loving someone is the day that you lose them." Dale said quietly and I stared up at him as the tears continued to stream down my face. "We all at certain times in our lives find ourselves broken. True strength is found in picking up the pieces."
I know that nothing that this group does will fix the hole left in my heart by the death of my entire family, but the only thing that I can do is try to "pick up the pieces" of my shattered life and start again.