Status: Complete
Honey, Where's My Arm?
Emily
I rejoined the others in the living room. "Why don't you tell us about yourself?" Rick asked. I glanced at him, and then at Daryl who was sitting near him. Daryl straightened up, suddenly interested in the conversation.
"Why?" I asked, glancing back at Rick.
"We don't really know anything about you," he answered.
I sighed, "Alright. I'm an expert martial artist,"
"We already know that," Glenn interrupted.
I ignored him, "I was training to be an MMA fighter before the outbreak. I was also engaged once, but we split a really long time ago."
"Why?" Daryl asked.
I looked at him and pursed my lips while considering what to tell him, "Things just weren't working out the way I had thought they were supposed to."
"Did he call you Butterfly?"
"No."
"What is your actual name?"
"That's for me to know and you to find out. What about y'all. I know Rick and Shane were cops, but what were the rest of you before the outbreak?" I asked. Unless they were scientists on the verge of discovering a cure for whatever the infection was, I didn't actually care. I just wanted to deflect the attention off of me. They told me, not that I was even listening, and then went back to their dreadfully boring conversations.
Finally, I got up and grabbed a Pepsi from the fridge before walking outside. I sat down in the middle of the backyard. I tucked my legs under me and popped the little tab on the can, opening it. It wasn't long before I was joined by, you guessed it, Daryl.
"What do you want to know this time?" I asked, not that I was actually going to give him an answer for whatever question he had.
He sat down next to me, sitting cross-legged, before asking, "Who's Emily."
My jaw tightened as he said her name but I forced myself to relax. "No one."
"People don't get other people's names tattooed to them if they're 'no one.'"
"It doesn't matter who she was because she's dead now."
"Why do you refuse to tell anyone anything about yourself?"
"I don't see how anything about me is even important."
"Did she get turned into a walker?"
"Thankfully, no."
"How old was she?"
I didn't answer right away. Would it hurt if I let someone in? I opened my mouth to tell him, but stopped. I couldn't. I just couldn't let him in. I barely even knew him. "She was almost three," I said before standing up and going back inside before he could ask another question.
I walked upstairs and went to the room; her room.
"Why?" I asked, glancing back at Rick.
"We don't really know anything about you," he answered.
I sighed, "Alright. I'm an expert martial artist,"
"We already know that," Glenn interrupted.
I ignored him, "I was training to be an MMA fighter before the outbreak. I was also engaged once, but we split a really long time ago."
"Why?" Daryl asked.
I looked at him and pursed my lips while considering what to tell him, "Things just weren't working out the way I had thought they were supposed to."
"Did he call you Butterfly?"
"No."
"What is your actual name?"
"That's for me to know and you to find out. What about y'all. I know Rick and Shane were cops, but what were the rest of you before the outbreak?" I asked. Unless they were scientists on the verge of discovering a cure for whatever the infection was, I didn't actually care. I just wanted to deflect the attention off of me. They told me, not that I was even listening, and then went back to their dreadfully boring conversations.
Finally, I got up and grabbed a Pepsi from the fridge before walking outside. I sat down in the middle of the backyard. I tucked my legs under me and popped the little tab on the can, opening it. It wasn't long before I was joined by, you guessed it, Daryl.
"What do you want to know this time?" I asked, not that I was actually going to give him an answer for whatever question he had.
He sat down next to me, sitting cross-legged, before asking, "Who's Emily."
My jaw tightened as he said her name but I forced myself to relax. "No one."
"People don't get other people's names tattooed to them if they're 'no one.'"
"It doesn't matter who she was because she's dead now."
"Why do you refuse to tell anyone anything about yourself?"
"I don't see how anything about me is even important."
"Did she get turned into a walker?"
"Thankfully, no."
"How old was she?"
I didn't answer right away. Would it hurt if I let someone in? I opened my mouth to tell him, but stopped. I couldn't. I just couldn't let him in. I barely even knew him. "She was almost three," I said before standing up and going back inside before he could ask another question.
I walked upstairs and went to the room; her room.