Status: Say something inspiring!
Haunted
Denver Lynn Wesson | Daryl Dixon
Denver has always been an independent woman, ever since she could remember her mother telling her as a young child.
"You depend on no man, honey." she says helping the red headed five year old glue a goodly eye to a brightly colored pom-pom. "You hear me baby? You go to school, get educated, and get a great job. Ain't no man gonna help you"
She nods her little head yes, not fully understanding what her mother was telling her. She knows she goes to kindergarten. She must be being silly again. The little girl smiles down at the creation, a goodly eyed bug with pipe cleaner legs.
She grabs Denver's little head, gently, making the little girl gain her full attention.
"Be stronger than your momma, baby girl” She says a lone tear straying down her beautiful face "You deserve the world, and momma can't even give you a Barbie Doll"
"But momma, I don't wanna Barbie" Denver whines, causing her mother to smile softly.
"How could I forget" She shakes her head "You just like your toy guns, huh?"
So that’s what she did. She graduated high school as the salutatorian. The scholarships and grants paying her way to college, knowing that her mother couldn't afford it. As she went to school she worked in the local Bar's, making her spending money as she worked on a degree in Midwifery.
When she finally did graduate, she moved from her hometown, and towards Atlanta, wanting to work in the hospitals in the large city. She found a decent place to rent, back in the boondocks about an hour and a half out of the city. She also picked up a bar tending position at the towns local bar, to make her student loan payment.
After a while, she began to know the regulars, which was really every single or troubled man in the small town. A certain, lively and out spoken, driller catches her eye.
Daryl Dixon.
He'd show up every night, with the normal group of course, buying not only himself, but her drinks and large tip to follow. He'd bring her small things, a single flower or some kind of chocolate, or they'd go places after her shift, out to eat, or to a late night movie he'd set up in the bed of his truck with a portable DVD player.
When he worked up the courage to ask her to be his girl, she, of course, said yes.
And her life seemed to fall into place ever since.
All until the world fell to shit.
Denver has always been an independent woman, ever since she could remember her mother telling her as a young child.
"You depend on no man, honey." she says helping the red headed five year old glue a goodly eye to a brightly colored pom-pom. "You hear me baby? You go to school, get educated, and get a great job. Ain't no man gonna help you"
She nods her little head yes, not fully understanding what her mother was telling her. She knows she goes to kindergarten. She must be being silly again. The little girl smiles down at the creation, a goodly eyed bug with pipe cleaner legs.
She grabs Denver's little head, gently, making the little girl gain her full attention.
"Be stronger than your momma, baby girl” She says a lone tear straying down her beautiful face "You deserve the world, and momma can't even give you a Barbie Doll"
"But momma, I don't wanna Barbie" Denver whines, causing her mother to smile softly.
"How could I forget" She shakes her head "You just like your toy guns, huh?"
So that’s what she did. She graduated high school as the salutatorian. The scholarships and grants paying her way to college, knowing that her mother couldn't afford it. As she went to school she worked in the local Bar's, making her spending money as she worked on a degree in Midwifery.
When she finally did graduate, she moved from her hometown, and towards Atlanta, wanting to work in the hospitals in the large city. She found a decent place to rent, back in the boondocks about an hour and a half out of the city. She also picked up a bar tending position at the towns local bar, to make her student loan payment.
After a while, she began to know the regulars, which was really every single or troubled man in the small town. A certain, lively and out spoken, driller catches her eye.
Daryl Dixon.
He'd show up every night, with the normal group of course, buying not only himself, but her drinks and large tip to follow. He'd bring her small things, a single flower or some kind of chocolate, or they'd go places after her shift, out to eat, or to a late night movie he'd set up in the bed of his truck with a portable DVD player.
When he worked up the courage to ask her to be his girl, she, of course, said yes.
And her life seemed to fall into place ever since.
All until the world fell to shit.