Chapter 5 - Don't look back

"Clem?"

My eyes widened as he stepped forward. Those well-known dirty brown boots first appeared in the light followed by the dirty ripped pants, the leather jacket over a gray sleeveless top, revealing strong bare arms and finally that face. Those piercing blue eyes found mine. I had never seen him so overwhelmed: one second he had his eyes wide opened in shock and surprise and a second later they were filled with rage and disgust and anger and a need of sudden revenge. He only looked at me for a few seconds, but I never forgot the numerous things his eyes could say in such a short time.

I looked down and sighed as he spun on his heels. "Don't do anything bad. We're both gonna be in big troubles."

"Don't give a shit," he turned to face me, "look what they done to you. You…" He passed his hands in his hair and over his face trying to calm down as he was walking back and forth. "You…" Again, he didn't find the rest of the sentence and he gave up.

Daryl took out his knife and set my wrists free of my makeshift handcuffs by slashing the tape. His eyes had barely looked in mine for seconds and they never looked down – at my body. He seemed embarrassed of the actual situation so he started looking for something to occupy his mind. I could see it by the wrinkles that were now all over his forehead. I heard him sighed as he walked behind the chain link fence as I was massaging my reddened wrists.

He came back in front of me a moment later with a dark blue jumpsuit in his hand. "Take it." He sat on the chair placed in the middle of the room and buried his face in his hands.

I accepted it and put it on. "Thank you." Through the pain, I managed to sit on the floor and even if my body was covere he kept avoiding my eyes. "You okay?

"Yeah."

I sighed. I knew him way too much, he couldn't try to keep something away from me. Even after all this time. "Then look me in the eyes and tell me you're okay."

His right leg began to shake and he stood up, walking back and forth once again trying to control his emotions. "I can't. Ya don't deserve this. Them fuckin' assholes gonna learn." He kicked a tire that was set in a corner. "Ain't gonn' let you be hurt like that."

"But it's too late, they already did the damages. We can't go back in the past."

"Wish we could…"

Why did I have to say that? Damn me! Talking about past with Daryl is such a risky topic… We stayed quiet for a moment as he sat back down. I looked down and found his knife laying on the floor. I took it and tried to see me face on the metallic blade: my bottom lip was cut at two different places, there was a light cut and a bruise on my left cheek. I put it aside and looked around at my tortutr room.

"Didn't know what they were, Joe seemed to be nice but looks like he ain't."

"Wasn't his name Jiovani?"

"Joe, Jiovani… the same guy at the end."

"Since when are you with them?"

"Few days, not long after you left. Found me and invited me in. Had no choice but to accept. Didn't tell me 'bout all that game till yesterday when Len came and told me what I'd have to do, made me so angry. No matter who it was here, wouldn't have done it."

"I know you wouldn't, you're not like that."

He looked up at me with a small smile before he dropped back down his head and sighed. "And they beat ya. All 'cause of me…"

"All that isn't your fault!"

"'Course it is, ya left 'cause of me. We was safe, you was safe with me, but I let ya on your own 'cause I'm a fuckin' dumbass prick." He vigorously stood up.

"You're not a-"

"Clem," he leaned closer to me, his eyes dark with so much anger, "you been hurt 'cause of me, it was my fault. I shoulda ran after you back at the farm. I shoulda protect 'em better so we'd still be at the prison. I shoulda listened to you instead of mourning with shit stuff." His voice was getting louder, "It was all my fault" and he broke down in silent tears. "Again I left ya… and now you-"

I hardly managed to stand on my feet and I tried to walk toward him to comfort him, but my body was way too sore. I held the fence to keep my balance. I couldn't hold back the grunt of pain, which caused him to turn his gaze on my face. "Come here," I whispered with the more tender voice I could ever found.

He walked to me and I hugged him when he was close enough. "It's not your fault, Daryl. It's the way it all was supposed to be. All that happened for some reasons. We learn of our mistakes, remember?" He nodded, being reminded of what I once told him back at the farm when we were looking for Sophia, and I pulled away. "We don't have plenty of time; they're most likely wondering why they're not hearing screams at the moment." I paused for a moment to regain some calmness before announcing my decision. "Look, I'm tired of it all, of suffering, of being hurt, of living. Daryl, I want you to end me."

Rage darkened is gaze as he swiftly took the knife from the floor and shove it in its sheath. "Never. Ain't killin' no friends."

"Please, I'm begging you. You don't want to see me hurt, then kill me now. It'll all be okay after."

"Don't even think about it."

A knock on the door resounded all over the room. "Don't take forever, man. She gotta be ready for tomorrow 'cause it's my turn again," Joe's awful voice was heard from behind the door. And then his terrifying laugh.

I turned back to Daryl. "See! C'mon please, do it for me. With the knife."

"No."

"I can't take it anymore… please." I was getting so nervous with the situation. Joe waiting for Daryl to come out, the fear of having to live it all again, the stress of ending my days short. My eyes drifted from the door to the knife, briefly stopping on his face. "Please." I whispered with watery eyes. "Daryl please. Let me turn and let me take my revenge. Please do it. Don't you want to see your friends happy? Do it, do it for me. Do it and run away, never come back. Please do it and go." Tears were rushing down my face as my brain was surrounded by nervousness.

"I can't." His breath was short.

"Then give me the knife and let me do it myself. I'm dying in this room, right here, right now. Give me the knife."

His hand trembled as it slowly made its way to the handle of the knife. His fingers tightened around it, but he dropped his hand. "Can't let you do this."

"I don't want to suffer anymore, I don't want to live any longer, I'm tired of surviving. Surviving is for people being afraid of death, I'm not. Let me finish it, give me the knife." Again, Daryl hesitated, but gave me the weapon. I took it and hugged him tight one last time. "Thanks a lot, this makes me happy, I love you." I whispered, my face buried in the crook of his neck.

"Same."

"Go find the others and find a safe place. Build a new home, a new life. Are you gonna do it?"

"Sure."

"And you're gonna start believe now?" He didn't answer. "Do it for me. Please…"

He took a deep breath and mouthed a brief "I will."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

I kissed him on the cheek and took a deep breath as he backed away. I had never seem him cry like this before, but I had to do it for us. This would give him the strength to do what's good for him. He'd do it for me, I know him, he's the kind to keep his promises. What a loyal friend.

I smiled at him before I planted the blade deep into my stomach. Blood instantly damped the jumpsuit I was wearing. I fell on my knees then on the side. Daryl kneeled down next to me and placed my head on his thighs. "Don't look back… okay?" I asked and he nodded. It was my way to tell him to not mourn my death, to not do like he did for Beth at the cabin, to look forward, to keep walking, to believe. "They're out there… waiting for you to… f- find them. Say hello for… m- me."

"Promise."