Who: Daryl Dixon and OPEN What: Not sure yet! Open to anything really. Where: The Prison When: Saturday afternoon Rating: TBA
The prison had become something else to Daryl since the disappearance of his brother. He wasn't quite sure what it was, or why he couldn't put his finger on it, but something most certainly was different. He wasn't even sure if it was good or bad; all he knew was that he was staying here and not going out there because looking for Merle now would be suicide. There were days Daryl didn't want to get up. He refused to go on raids and had become particularly useless, not even fully willing to undress completely before sliding down the shower wall, shaking, unable to keep up the mental facade any longer. He was cracking. Breaking. And he'd never been so scared in his entire life.
The place all decorated for the holidays even affected him; some days it was positive, the other days it was negative. His family never really did much in the way of celebrating the holidays; his father was always either too drunk or wasn't even home and put Merle in charge of his little brother. They never had a lot of money, so that counted gifts out. Hell, he didn't even have a bike like the rest of the kids that he went to school with. But it wasn't about gifts to Daryl. He just wanted the normal family he saw in the Christmas advertisements, sitting around having a full turkey dinner with one another, or drinking hot cocoa or sitting around the Christmas tree opening presents. He'd never had any of that, and now he had to celebrate with sixty so odd strangers. He wasn't sure how he felt about it.
Today was the first day since his brothers disappearance that Daryl's presence was actually known in the prison. He showered (normally) changed and made his way down to the cafeteria in time for something small for lunch, his physical appearance having changed slightly even though it had only been days. He hadn't been eating; he hadn't felt like it. His stomach felt full of weights for days now, twisting and making him roll around on his bed in pain. Today was different; he'd at least have a sandwich.
Daryl had a small portion of lunch served to him and found his usual table in the corner, quiet and not populated as he'd come to expect nowadays. He picked at his food here and there, more interested in downing the bottle of water he had and zoning out while keeping his eyes on the tabletop than anything else.