Chapter 7
Beth pushed past Daryl and ran up the stairs. Leaving him stood blankly in the hallway. She didn't look back. It was stupid and idiotic but shame coursed through her at an unbearable rate. 'Why did I even say that?' she scolded herself internally. God, she needed Maggie's advice, she'd have known what to do. Her sister knew all about men and sex and cocks and stuff… Beth clattered along the landing and shut herself safely in the makeshift bedroom. She sighed, head in her hands.
Pulling off her boots and jeans she launched herself into bed, drawing up the covers around her, muffling out the world. She didn't know how long she'd been sleeping when she eventually found herself in the pitch dark, no matter how she blinked, she could see no further than her own nose. This fact alone did not feel right. Her limbs twitched awkwardly, beyond her control. Feet stumbling over thick clumps of grass, she began to make out faint shapes, coming closer and closer. Try as she might, there was no way to focus, it was as if her eyes were cataract, sheathed in dirt and dust. It was secondary to her sudden hunger. She dropped to her knees, bone's splintering as her weight thudded, still no pain. The human like shapes lay a short way ahead. An unnatural growl ripped its way from her throat. She felt wrong, wanting to be dragged away. Her limbs made no action to retreat. Instead she bared her teeth and sunk them into the still warm feast now beneath her. Liquid iron gushed into her mouth. It was vile, she wanted to be sick, to expel it from her body. Guzzling mouthful after mouthful of raw meat she suddenly realized her eyesight was clear, she looked down slowly and saw a pair of rotten hands ripping chunks of flesh from a dead man's abdomen. It was her father. Beyond him were Maggie and Glenn, Rick, Carl, and the others, all laid in a mangled heap, their bodies eaten away. She stared in horror, trying to scream. Her voice was nothing more than a groan.
Beth woke with a start.
Covered in cold sweat, shock clouded her brain. But she already knew why her dreams were so disturbing. She'd been suppressing all her unanswered questions for days. Where were the others? Were the children safe? Her, her daddy… She silently prayed that someone had showed him mercy, ending his suffering. 'And what about Daryl?' her inner monologue whispered. The last few hours came flooding back as she got up. It made her cringe.
She needed a distraction.
A simple full length mirror adorned a space near the window. Beth dressed and walked to it. She was happy to find that she looked nothing like the walker in her nightmare. However, it was still pretty terrible. Her silky blonde hair was lank and straggled, pale skin smudged with dirt. 'Daryl wants to be near this?' she moped, hating her reflection. What could he even see in her?
She cupped her breasts, squeezing them a little. They were still pert handfuls, even without the cute underwear she used to own. Lifting her shirt revealed albeit an unclean yet flat stomach, smooth and pale. It wasn't too bad, she convinced herself. She'd never been very confident about her body, and had always felt that it would let her down.
Remembering the bottles of shampoo she'd picked up at the store Beth went in search of the backpack, shuffling along absentmindedly in her socks. It was downstairs, sitting right where she'd dropped it. Daryl was nowhere in sight, she supposed he was off sulking. Bundling them into her arms she made her way to the bathroom to store them and investigate the possibility of warm water. It was the first door on the landing.
As she turned the handle and walked inside, hot steam caressed her skin. Daryl was in the shower, facing away from her. She dropped the bottles and squealed. Before either of them could react Beth noticed the scars. Angry purple lines cut into his back, scrawled across his wide shoulders, slashed over his spine.