Epidemic

Chapter 3

"I said get off her." This time the guy’s hands released my throat and I gasped for air.

"Now come on baby brother, don't ye want a turn with this fine piece of ass?" He slapped my thigh hard, which made me struggle to get free. No one’s going to touch me and live to tell the tale. This is exactly why I don't do groups.

"Get off." Daryl gritted and grabbed the guy off me. He went stumbling into the cell door, before he looked up.

"You got lotta nerve puttin your hands on me boy." His brother spat. I can't even believe these two are related.

Leaning up I focused on sliding the cuffs off my wrists. The cold metal dug into my skin as I managed to get one of my arms free. I'm not useless and I won't have some guy save me from something I can get out of myself.

The second cuff was trickier. But I managed to pull my wrist free with minimum damage. Looking down I inspected the damage. My left wrist was bleeding from where the metal cut my skin, but it wasn't anything to fuss about. My right wrist would just be bruised.

Pulling my shirt down I covered the wounds before looking up at Daryl. His face was still cold and emotionless, and his eyes were hooded.

Even in the dark cell I could tell his eyes held something different about them though. They weren't studying or calculating anything about the situation. They were almost soft... well as soft as Daryl's eyes could possibly get.

Giving a nod I silently thanked him for pulling his good for nothing brother off me. As he stood there I could tell Daryl was a lot like myself. Quiet and stubborn, not sure when to let other people help or when to thank someone.

He nodded before walking out of the cell. Leaving me alone once again, to sit in silence. Sitting there I watched the door, my eyes not moving.

******

I stayed awake the rest of the night, my back against the cold concrete wall. Most of the time I wouldn't mind the coolness, but with the weather shifting it just made everything worse.

Rick must have found my bag of stuff and brought it because it was propped up in the corner. Swiftly moving I grabbed it, searching for a decent pair of cloths. Well at least something that didn't have a hole.

Looking around I made sure no one was nearby as I started to strip down. Quickly grabbing my last pair of black jeans I slid them on along with a tank top and a plaid over shirt.

In the process of changing I found myself staring at my old ID badge that was sitting in the bottom of my bag. I was a completely different person then. I had color to my skin; my eyes weren't sunken in like they are now. I never had to kill anyone yet. Overall I looked happy.... and I was. Now I barely sleep without nightmares waking me up. And there isn't a day that goes by that I haven't thought about killing myself. Ending it all. Calling it quits. I know it wouldn't solve anything but it was a better option over the alternative.

Wiping my eyes with my sleeve I buried my ID underneath all my clothes. That was part of my past that no one, not even myself needed to remember.