.:Raelyn | 27 *present*:.
The heat was really starting to get to me.
No matter how many times I reached up to wipe the sticky sweat and matted hair away from my forehead, it accumulated again in a matter of seconds. My breaths were quick and shallow, the heat making the air thick and heavy. I was getting light headed, dehydration was definitely taking its toll on me.
"I gotta get the fuck outta here..." I hissed to myself, already knowing there was no way out, just not ready to accept it.
Suddenly, gun shots rang out. They sounded like they were coming from outside in the street. I bolted upright, my Peridot green eyes wide and every muscle in my body tensed as I listened. Along with the gunshots, I could hear heavy metal doors creaking as they opened, slamming hard as they fell closed.
The geeks below me began to stir and fester, and as two more gunshots broke the air, they all rushed out of sight. I could hear their growls and shrieks echoing through the halls of the department store, no doubt headed toward whoever had that gun...
Now was my chance. I quickly tucked my empty, almost useless pistol into the waistband of my ripped up jeans. I had been wearing them for months now, so they were dirty, stretched out and baggy, hanging off my thin frame just slightly. My exposed knees were scraped up and smudged in dirt from constant crawling and hiding, and they stung as I stretched my legs out and began to dangle myself down from the loft.
The weakness of my legs caught me off guard, and I gasped as they buckled to the floor, unable to hold my weight... Even if it was only 115 pounds.
"Son of a bitch..." I growled, almost feeling angry.
That's what this new bullshit world made me more than anything: Angry. More than sad, more than scared... I was just angry.
Angry that my two best friends in the entire world, the only two people I had, were gone. Either they were dead, walking around as one of those things... Or they had high tailed it to the woods, where I'd surely never find them. Either way it seemed hopeless... And the hopelessness just made me more angry at myself.
I tried not to think about any of that as I forced myself to my feet, tangling my legs in the grungy red flannel that was tied around my hips. I could hear voices... Voices and footsteps. I debated with myself for a split second, knowing damn well that just because someone was alive, didn't mean they were safe.
But, weighing my options, I decided I had a better chance of making it if I found a group of people to stick with... Not that I necessarily wanted to.
If it hadn't been Merle or Daryl, I had never had the interest in putting myself around other people, and the end of the world hadn't changed that much about me. I was still stubborn, hot headed Rae, who could take care of herself and didn't need any help from anybody... traits I picked up from the Dixon boys themselves.
But right now, as much as I hated to admit it, I needed help. My head was spinning from dehydration and heat exhaustion, and my stomach felt sunken in from severe hunger. The last time I had eaten any protein was weeks ago, when I was still traveling through the woods. Even then, it was only one squirrel I managed to beam with a rock and knock out of a tree.
Raw squirrel meat wasn't appetizing in the least. In fact I had almost puked at least three times while I forced the cold, bloody, gamey meat to slide down my throat... But survival wasn't about eating what tasted good. That's why it was called 'survival'.
The voices and footsteps were getting closer by the second. I had to move quick, or whoever was out there would most likely pass right by this tiny security office without even knowing I existed.
"Hey...!" I tried to holler out, but my throat was dry and caught my voice in my vocal chords.
I coughed and cleared my throat as I hobbled across the office, bracing myself against a long fold out table to hold up my weight.
"Hello...?!" I called out again, my voice still raspy but a little louder now. "Help!"
Ugh. Even in this moment, the vulnerability in my voice made me sick.
I stumbled out into the eerie, empty hall littered in old news papers and smeared in dried blood. I ignored the desperate messages spray painted on the walls in big black letters as I tried to focus instead on where the voices were coming from.
Then, at the end of the hall, two people suddenly came into view; A man looking to be in his late thirties or early forties, dressed in a sheriff's uniform. The other was a younger Asian man, probably around 22 or 23. He was dressed in a white t-shirt and black pants, with a backpack on his back and a baseball cap on his head.
"Hey...!" The sheriff spoke up first as he layed eyes on me while I crumbled to the floor in exhaustion. "Hey, there's a girl over there...!"
"We don't have time to stop...!" the young Asian man protested as he frantically glanced over his shoulder and tried to usher the older man away with him, "Wh-what if she's infected?!"
But the sheriff wasn't listening. He was already cautiously stepping toward me, his hand resting on his shiny silver revolver for good measure.
"Hey, now... I'm a police officer." The man spoke slowly as he approached me, "Don't be afraid, okay?"
I felt myself scoff at his words as I lifted my head up to peer at him.
"I ain't afraid of you," I whispered weakly but intensely, my Georgia twang clear in my voice, "I ain't infected, neither."
"Well, did you get bit?" the man in the baseball cap demanded from behind the sheriff, urgently glancing over his shoulder again.
My jaw clenched as I thought of the pair of teeth marks etched into the soft skin on my side, underneath my black tank top. By now, it was a smooth, slightly raised up scar... When it happened, though, I was sure I was going to die. If not from turning, from just the blood loss alone... Bastard had really got me good.
I had waited and waited, but nothing ever happened. Fever never struck, I obviously never got a hankerin' for flesh or blood... So of course, I was puzzled. But in that moment, as these two strange men stared down at me expectantly awaiting my answer... I lied.
"No." I replied simply as my eyebrows furrowed together, my green eyes boring into the Asian man, "I'm fine. Just dehydrated..."
The sheriff wasted no time, retracting his hand away from his gun and quickly helping me up to my feet. My head spun at the sudden motion, but I pulled myself together despite the intense wave of nausea I suddenly felt.
Now was not the time for me to be blowin' chunks.
"C'mon, let's get movin'." the sheriff said to the young Asian man as he pulled me down the hallway with him, my arm draped over his shoulder.
The Asian man glanced wearily at my dirt smudged face for a split second, then nodded and we started off to the left, toward a mildew covered stairwell. I struggled to keep up with the sheriff's quick steps, grunting and gasping as we went.
We bounded down the stairs, a avoiding the piles of broken glass that had fallen from the windows above. The sounds of our shuffling footsteps and ragged breathing bounced off the cement walls in rapid echoes. Suddenly, I could hear the fuzzy interference of a walkie-talkie, and looked up to see the Asian man speaking into one.
"It's me, I'm coming back," He breathlessly huffed into the device, "Got two guests, plus three geeks in the alley. Get ready, we're comin' in hot!"
He didn't wait for whoever was on the other end to respond. Instead, the Asian man shoved the walkie talkie into his waist band, just as the three of us dropped off the last step and came face to face with the three walkers he had just mentioned.
They immediately caught sight of us, two 'women' and one 'man'. Their eyes grew fierce with hunger as they began to make those God awful squealing sounds, but they didn't have much time to act before a door at the other side of the alley swung open behind them.
Two figures rushed out toward the geeks, cloaked in heavy black snowsuits and motorcycle helmets. The first was wielding a long metal pipe, and the other grasped a baseball bat.
"Go, go!" One of the mystery figures screamed at us from under the helmet in a Hispanic accent, urgently motioning toward the door, "Move, hurry the hell up!"
We followed their instruction, and the two cloaked figures started beating the brains out of the zombies. Bones crunched and blood splattered across the cement, and the smell was somethin' awful. If the Asian man wouldn't have held the door open for the sheriff and I, allowing us to duck inside the safety of another building, my gag reflex probably would have got the best of me.
I could hear the two people outside calling out to each other and rushing back inside, slamming the door behind them.
Then, suddenly, the sound of a handgun's safety clicking off caught my attention, followed by someone shoving the sheriff hard in the chest, throwing me off balance.
"You stupid son of a bitch, we ought'a kill you...!" a woman's voice angrily hissed as I crashed to the ground, slamming my head into a metal rack of faded shirts amidst all the chaos.
I glanced upward to see a room full of people, other survivors... Right above me, a strung out woman with a blonde ponytail held a gun to the sheriff, aiming it at his face at point blank range.
"Hey, c'mon Andrea, back off." The man with the Hispanic accent piped up as he removed his helmet, revealing a pudgy face with a dark, scruffy beard.
"Yea, take it easy..." an African American woman agreed, trying to place a hand on the blonde woman's shoulder, but she ripped away.
"Take it easy, are you kidding me?!" the woman known as Andrea snapped, never taking her eyes off of the sheriff, "We're all dead 'cause of this asshole and his little girlfriend."
She tossed her gaze down at me, sneering and looking disgusted.
"Andrea...!" the Hispanic man spoke again, walking up behind her and giving the back of her head a serious glare. Still, she didn't lower the gun.
"Hey, I ain't his girlfriend," I sharply corrected this Andrea woman, pushing myself to my feet even though I felt weak as all hell... I wasn't going to let that show to these people. "Don't even know the guy's name, just met him two minutes ago."
Andrea finally dropped her gun down, narrowing her blue eyes at me and taking a step forward.
"Really?" She hissed, getting too close. "I think you're lyin' out your ass."
I stood my ground, narrowing my eyes right back at her. Who the hell did she think she was?
"Bitch, you are pressin' the wrong buttons..." I warned Andrea in a low growl, feeling my fingers clench tightly into fists.
"Hey, hey, now!" the Hispanic man spoke up again, wedging himself between the two of us and nudging Andrea back away from me, "Chill out. Last thing we need is a cat fight."
Andrea reluctantly stepped back away from the sheriff and I, pressing her palm to her forehead in distress.
"No, the last thing we need is attention drawn to us!" She shrieked, her face falling into slack despair, "We're dead, all of us. Because of you."
She kept her hateful eyes off me and glued to the sheriff, who was staring with intent confusion at each face in the room, including mine.
I glanced over to the young Asian man, making eye contact for a split second before he looked away, not saying a word.
"I don't understand..." the sheriff slowly spoke up after a second, raising an eyebrow.
Suddenly, the Hispanic man stepped forward and grabbed the sheriff by the arm, steering him off around the corner behind him. Everyone followed, including me, trailing along behind the group.
"See, we came into this city looking to scavenge for supplies." I could hear the Hispanic accent whispering harshly at the front of the group, "Do you know what scavenging means? Staying low and keeping quiet, not firing off a gun in the middle of the street like a god damn idiot...!"
Finally, we stopped in a room that looked like it used to be a small boutique. Brightly colored clothes still hung on the few racks that had been left standing, and the cashier's station almost seemed untouched, aside from some scattered receipt paper.
In front of us, though, the thick glass doors had been chained shut... On the outside, hundreds upon hundreds of geeks swarmed the entrance. They slammed their creepy, decrepit hands onto the glass, screeching and hissing loudly.
"Every geek from miles around heard you poppin' off rounds, man." An African American man I hadn't noticed yet spoke up from the back of the group.
"Get the picture now?" the Hispanic man asked seriously.
"You pretty much just rang the dinner bell." Andrea sneered in terrified disgust at the walkers, then up at the blue eyed police officer, "What the hell were you doing out there, anyway?"
"I was trying to follow the helicopter..." the sheriff replied, staring at the beasts outside the glass.
Everyone in the room gave him a puzzled stare.
"Helicopter?" I repeated his words, my thin blonde eyebrows raised, "You must be delusional."
"Yea, man, ain't no damn helicopters!" the African American man agreed, scoffing as if that were the most ridiculous thing he'd ever heard.
"It's so damn hot out there, and the chaos of it all can make you see things... It happens." the African American woman from before tried to gently reassure the sheriff, but he wasn't having it.
"I saw it." He harshly snapped.
At that moment, a loud cracking sound caught our attention and shut everyone up. Each head in the room whipped forward with wide eyes, only to see that one of the walkers had picked up a pretty good sized rock, and was now slamming it into the glass.
We all gasped and huddled backwards into the clothes, stumbling over each other as we watched a crack begin to splinter, growing and growing with each strike of the rock.
"What the hell," I hissed as I glanced about the group, "Since when can those fuckers pick shit up like that...?!"
Andrea glared at me from a few feet away with her brows furrowed and her mouth upturned in an ugly frown. She seemed disgusted by my language, but I didn't give a damn. I was disgusted by her face, so we were even.
"I don't know, but we're running out of time!" the Asian man piped up from somewhere, "T-Dog, try to call the others."
"Others?" the sheriff asked, "The refugee center?"
"Yea, the refugee center," the African American woman replied back, her voice dripping in sarcasm, "They've got biscuits in the oven waiting for us."
I stifled a very inappropriate laugh at the woman's attitude. But, as I studied the sheriff's face for a brief second, I realized that he really was confused... Didn't he know the refugee center went down within three weeks of the outbreak...?
Well, come to think of it, he did fire off a bunch of rounds in the street, a big no-no for this world, unless you felt like you might not make it out alive otherwise.
So, where the hell has this guy been?
"Got no signal." the African American man, now known as T-Dog, said in a discouraging tone as he twisted the dial on his walkie-talkie. "Maybe the roof-"
Suddenly, before T-Dog could even finish his sentence, loud rounds fired off from above us, causing the entire group to violently flinch. Sounded like a shotgun or a hunting rifle.
"Jesus, is that Dixon up there...?!" Andrea groaned in despair, and I swear my racing heart seemed to halt completely.
"Did you just say..." My words came out breathlessly, but before I could utter the last, most important one, we were all being rushed toward a dark, tall stairwell that led up to the roof.
Dixon...
xxxxxx
.:Raelyn | Age 7:.
My momma said I was accident. She was real young when she had me, and I deserved better than her. I didn't exactly know what it meant, but it was what was makin' her send me away.
I didn't wanna move across Georgia and live with Aunt Laura... She was old, and her house smelled like cigarettes. It was so boring there, and all the kids were buttheads.
But if I wouldn't have left my momma and moved away, I never woulda met my best friend in the whole world... The boy with the Georgia blue eyes.
xxx
It was real hot that summer, but I was always outside. I hated bein' home with my Aunt Laura. All she did was sit around, watchin' her talk shows and her soap operas, cloudin' the house in cigarette smoke.
So I'd leave the house when I got up in the morning, and didn't go home 'till I was ready to go to bed. Aunt Laura didn't exactly care much, she didn't cook dinner or nothin'. I usually took care of that for myself. As long as I wasn' t buggin' her or interuptin' her shows, she was happy.
Durin' the school year, the only thing that was different was that I better have had my butt in class every day, whether I slept or not the night before. I mean, unless I was pukin' up blood or somethin'... That might be kinda cool.
Today, the clouds were coverin' up the sun, so it wasn't as hot as it usually was. I looked up to the sky, hopin' that maybe it would rain... That way I could dig up some worms and go fishin' in the creek down Johnson Road.
Most girls my age didn't like me because... Well, I wasn't very girly, I guess. I never liked wearin' frilly dresses or puttin' my hair in pigtails. I just liked my shorts or jeans and my t-shirts, and I always thought my plain, straight blonde hair looked better down over my shoulders.
And I wasn't afraid to get dirty, or pick up worms and frogs. At recess at school, all the girls squealed and ran away from me when I tried to show 'em all the cool creepy crawlies I dug up. For a while, it hurt my feelings, but I got over it.
So, I tried to be friends with the boys instead. But they didn't like me much, neither. You'd think so, since I liked mud and worms and fishin'.
They didn't wanna be friends with me 'cause I wasn' t scared to fight 'em if they teased me, which they did. A lot.
The boys were always real mean to me... they called me names, spit at me, threw rocks at me... But I was meaner. It didn't take much to light my fire, and since summer break started just two weeks ago, I'd already taken down a few boys. Most of 'em were my age, but some were bigger and older than me.
I didn't care, though. I wasn' t scared of 'em. They could hit me and kick me and throw me down to the ground as many times as they wanted, but they never beat me. They only made me madder.
What won me my fights was my never ending energy. I could bounce up a million times, goin' for the face every one of those times. Even if I came out with some cuts and bruises or a bloody nose, the boy I was fightin' had it worse. Usually black eyes or busted lips, maybe a broken tooth if I really got some good shots in.
For a scrawny seven year old girl, I was pretty tough. And I was proud of that.
The tires on my old red bike flew down Thomas Drive, the long, hilly road my Aunt Laura's house was on. We lived right smack dab in the middle of the Georgia country side, so the roads were long and curvy, paved through the rollin' hills. People out here liked their privacy, so the houses were pretty spaced apart. Some were even built deep into the woods, and you could hardly even see 'em from the road... The long gravel driveways were the only clues that pointed 'em out.
I knew it was gonna rain. I could smell it in the cool air that was rushin' in, burstin' through the tall, weepy willows that lined the road on each side, forming together like a tunnel. Their droopy, mossy branches swayed all around, almost like they were dancin'.
I felt a smile rest on my lips as I pedaled along, heading for my favorite spot to dig up worms; an old, dried up river bed in the middle of the woods at the end of the street. Once the rain touched it, the crusty, cracked dirt would melt into mushy, gooey mud... Worm paradise.
I rounded the corner on my bike, nearing the end of the street. I knew I was close to the spot where I usually dropped my bike and disappeared into the trees, because I could see the old, empty blue house at the edge of the field... Except today, it wasn't empty. I slowed my pedaling, and stared over the barbed wire fence as I drifted closer.
There was a small moving truck in the driveway of the house, along with a regular old blue Ford... And the porch light was on. Someone was obviously movin' in, but I didn't see any people... Maybe some new, nicer kids were movin' in that I could be friends with?
But probably not. All the kids around here were the same, new ones wouldn't be any different. So, I just looked straight ahead and continued on my way.
It wasn't much further past the edge of the field before I slowed to a stop, throwing my bike down at the edge of the trees and tromping through the grass... But something suddenly tripped me, throwing me forwards and onto my hands and knees with a loud 'thud'.
I grumbled to myself as I stood up and brushed the grass blades from my scraped up palms, turnin' and searchin' for what had caught me.
It was another bike, a green one with black handle bars, totally hidden by the tall grass. I made a face at it... That meant someone else was around here.
"Stupid bike..." I huffed at the hunk of metal before makin' my way back into the trees.
I didn't get too far before I heard somethin'. I stopped movin', held my breath and listened... It sounded like someone cryin'. I kept my footsteps as quiet as I could manage, trackin' the sound through the trees.
Finally, I spotted 'im. His back was to me, but I could tell just by how big he was that he was a few years older than I was. All I could see of him was his black t-shirt and scruffy brown hair... And now that I was close enough, I could definitely tell it was him that was cryin'.
He hadn't noticed me standin' there yet, and I thought about turnin' around and leavin'... But instead, I decided to say somethin'.
"Hey," My small voice piped up, "Boy."
I felt stupid callin' him 'Boy', but I didn't know his name so I didn't really know quite what else to call him.
He instantly whirled around at the sound of my voice, and I got a good look at his face. He was probably 10 or 11, and his hair was shaggy and fell in his face, stuck to his cheeks where his tears ran down. His eyes were red and puffy from cryin', but what I noticed about them more than anything was that they were blue... Not just any kind of blue, neither.
Some sorta clear, crystal blue that I had never seen before. For some reason, I just couldn't stop starin', not even when the boy twisted his face up at me in a hateful scowl.
It wasn't until then that I noticed the dark purple bruise on his left cheek.
"Whadda ya want, little girl?" He spat at me, his swampy southern drawl even thicker than mine. "Git the hell away from me."
I felt my eyebrows scrunch up at his poison soaked words. Why was everybody so damn mean?
"Why're you cryin'?" I asked him simply, tryin' just one more time to be nice.
"What're ya, stupid? Deaf?!" The boy raised his voice, his entire face burnin' red with anger. He clenched his fingers around the dirt and rocks on the ground, "I SAID GIT!"
His voice cracked as he hurled his handful of the forest floor right at my head, and I threw my arms up to block it. Still, some grains of sand found their way into my eyes and mouth.
I sputtered and blinked my eyes rapidly, finally giving the boy my meanest glare. Now he made me mad.
"I was just tryin' to be nice, you big dumb idiot!" I shouted at him as I balled my hands into fists at my sides, "You sound like a little girl, cryin' out here all alone. Sissy."
I knew that comment would push some kinda button of his. No boy liked to be called a little girl or a sissy.
"What'd you say ta me?!" The boy growled as he scrambled to his feet, scowlin' down at me. He was tall and lanky, probably six inches taller than me.
"I said, you sound like a little girl." I repeated myself matter-of-factly, steppin' closer to the boy and starin' him right in the eyes. "Why dontcha run home and cry to your momma-"
All of a sudden, two hands made contact with my shoulders, shoving me down hard to the ground. I yelped as my rear end hit the dirt, staring up at the boy with wide eyes.
His face was dark, his eyes furious and his chin quivering. More tears were flowin' from his blue eyes now, and he didn't even try to stop 'em.
"My momma's dead, you stupid girl..." He whispered to me before tearin' off through the woods, disappearin' out of my sight.
xxxxxx
It had been two days since I had seen that boy in the woods. I had rode past the spot where I saw his bike, maybe thinkin' I'd see it again, but I didn't. The boy was a stranger to me, but for some reason I felt guilty about what I said to 'im. If his momma really was dead, I shouldn't have said what I did... I was mean, but I didn't wanna be THAT mean.
Someone losin' their momma's too sad to be mean about.
After the fifth time I rode by the spot near the woods on my bike, though, I gave up. He wouldn't come back here, not after that.
Instead, I kept on goin' down into town. I had a few quarters to get a soda with, and I was dyin' of thirst. Luckily, the ride into town from the end of Thomas Drive was a short one, only about 10 minutes.
I pulled up to the grocery store just passed the first traffic light in no time, parking my bike in the bike racks. Inside, the line wasn't long, so I picked out my can of sprite, paid the store clerk, and walked back outside as I cracked it open.
The green can was empty before I even got back to my bike... I must have really been thirsty. As I passed a trash can, I crumpled the can and tossed it inside.
But when I rounded the corner of the store to get back to my bike, my heart sank. Standing around it were three older boys, fourth graders... Well, soon to be fifth graders. I recognized the one in the middle as Charley Randall, a stocky, red haired boy with brown eyes and a gap between his teeth.
I inwardly gulped as they stared me down, keeping my tough exterior showing. I remembered about a week ago when I had punched Charley's little brother, Blake's lights out for poppin' my front bike tire. That had to be what they were here for... Musta followed me somehow.
"Hey, guys, look!" Charley said to his two buddies, pretendin' like he wasn't expectin' to see me, "It's the little witch who gave my baby brother a broken nose."
"Oh, yea," his friend on the left, Billy, played along, leanin' forward on the handles of his bike. "That is her, ain't it?"
"She don't look so tough." the friend to the right, Jeff, pointed out with a stupid grin.
I scoffed, walkin' right up to 'em and makin' a grab for my bike, but they were blockin' it in.
"If I ain't so tough, then how come Blake got beat up by a girl?" I taunted, only earnin' me a shove backwards from Charley.
"What, ya want yer bike, little girl?" Charley laughed and teased me, "Well, come git it, then!"
So I kept grabbin' for the handles, and the three boys just kept shovin' me back, makin' me angrier and angrier. Finally, I had enough. I bounced back from Charley's hands as he shoved me for the third time, rearing my foot back and kicking him hard in each of his shins.
He howled in pain, hopping up and down and getting all tangled in his bike, catching his two friends off guard and losing his focus on me. While I had my chance, I ripped my bike away from them, got a running start and hopped on, already in motion as I placed my feet on the pedals.
But of course, my little attack hadn't kept the three older boys busy for long. When I looked back behind me, they were hot on my tail, pedalin' their bikes after me as I raced up Thomas Drive.
"You ain't gonna git away, girl!" One of them shouted from behind me, soundin' real close.
I pedaled as fast as I could, tryin' to lose 'em, but they were faster than me. Billy and Jeff managed to zoom passed me, halting their bikes in front of me, forcing me to slam my own brakes. I felt myself wobble on my bike, but before I even had a chance to fall, a pair of hands was ripping me to the ground by my long, blonde hair.
Then came the kicking. All three of them were standing around me, jutting their feet into my stomach and sides from all directions, cacklin' with laughter. I was a tough girl, but I couldn't take on three older boys at once... Especially when they all had me on the ground.
The best I could do was cover my head with my arms, curl into a ball, and wait until they were done. It hurt real bad, them kickin' me, but I wasn't gonna cry. I know that's what they wanted, and I wouldn't do it.
"Hey, man, what if someone sees us?" Billy's voice piped up, suddenly sounding worried. I could feel that his foot was out of the loop now. "We're standin' right in front of a house."
"Chill out, Billy, no one lives in that house." Charley grunted back.
But all of a sudden, a shout rang out from a distance away.
"HEY!" it was a boy's voice, and it sounded so familiar, "GIT OFF 'ER!"
Charley, Jeff, and Billy sounded flustered, and I could hear their bikes scrapin' against the road as they picked 'em up and rode away. Meanwhile, footsteps were rushin' up to me from my left, and I could hear that voice again... I still hadn't unwrapped my arms from my head.
"BUNCH'A COWARDS!" The voice yelled out, then got softer as it spoke to me, "Hey, you all right?"
Wait... I suddenly knew the voice. I slowly lifted my head out of my arms to come face to face with those Georgia blue eyes and that scruffy brown hair. It was the boy I'd seen in the woods, only now his face wasn't all red and puffy...
I slowly sat up. He looked just as surprised to see me as I felt to see him.
"... It's you.." The boy mumbled, narrowing eyes at me just a little.
"Yea..." I replied back, not really knowin' what else to say. But as I sat there and chewed on my bottom lip, I thought of somethin'. "Um... I'm sorry... For what I said to ya... Y'know, about yer momma. If she really is dead, that was real mean of me to say... Too mean."
The boy stared into my eyes for a few seconds before lookin' down at the ground from where he was kneelin'.
"She is." He whispered flatly.
"At least she's an Angel now." I said to him, and as he glanced back up at me, lookin' a little confused, I smiled. "Anyways, thanks fer helpin' me. My name's Raelyn."
"You got a funny name." He told me, but I could see a very small smile startin' to pull at his lips, "I'm Daryl."
I smiled and scrunched up my face at the same time.
"'Daryl'..." I repeated thoughtfully, "And you think I'm the one with the funny name."
He rolled his blue eyes at me before standin' up and offerin' his hand to help me to my feet. I reached up and grasped it, his palm feeling a little rough and sweaty in mine.
"Where'd you come from, anyway?" I asked Daryl, and he turned and pointed toward the blue house at the end of the field. I hadn't realized where we were until that moment.
"My house." He told me, turning back to look at me, "Just moved in the other day with my dad and my brother."
"Ohhh, so you're the one that moved into that old house! I saw the moving truck." I said as I straightened out my tangled hair.
"Yup..." Daryl replied with a weak smile, before sighing and running his hand through his shaggy brown hair, "Well, I best be gittin' home 'fore my daddy has another fit."
I couldn't help but wonder what that meant as Daryl turned around and headed back toward the house, turnin' over his shoulder and callin' out to me, "See ya around, Raelyn."
I waved to him, waitin' a second before callin' out to him again.
"... Hey, Daryl?"
He stopped and turned, about a third of the way across the field now. "Yea?"
"Do you, um..." I stammered a little nervously as I bent down to pick up my bike, "Do you maybe wanna go fishin' with me tomorrow mornin'? I got an extra pole."
There was a pause as Daryl stood there blinkin' at me, lookin' dumbfounded. I felt stupid, of course he didn't wanna go fishin' with me. We were strangers, and I was just some little girl on a bike...
I was just about to change my mind, tell Daryl to forget what I said, and tear down the street on my bike, when he smiled at me.
"Yea, sure." He replied, "That sounds like fun."
I felt a happiness inside me like I had never felt before, my smile seeming like it might grow too big and crack my face in half.
"Okay!" I said, a little too excited, so I toned it down a little, "I'll be back here at... 8:00?"
He nodded once, then we exchanged one more wave before I set off for home, feeling warm and giddy inside. I just couldn't stop smilin'.
Did I really just make a friend...?
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To be continued...
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