I turned around, there was nothing there, the billboard said "the end is near"

it all happened so fast.

one moment you were in your room, plucking strings on your guitar, the next, there was a banging on your door. Unmistakable.

you jolted up, setting aside the guitar on your bed and going down the stairs to the door.

you grabbed a baseball bat from beside the door (that your mother left in case of a situation like this) and gripped it tight, unlocking and opening the door.

you readied the bat, but your eyes fell on Daryl Dixon. Your best friend. You raised a brow and chuckled a bit, lowering the bat.

"Scared me. What's got you knocking so hard?" you asked, casual, a joking tone bleeding into your voice.

but Daryl's heavy breathing and flickering eyes like something was chasing him, was off-putting. Your smile dropped.

"Ain't safe here. You gotta come with me." Daryl said, voice gruff and out of breath, he looked over his shoulder again. Paranoid.

you were the only one who had seen past his last name, disregarded his conditions and instead teaching him better things to do and to be. He was a better person with you.

he wasn't going to leave you here when hell broke loose. Even if his brother advised against it.

you were confused but when you opened your mouth to ask, he shook his head, stepping closer to you and pulling you inside your house. "Ain't safe." he repeated. Almost scared. Something you hadn't seen in Daryl.

"Pack your things. Supplies, food, clothes, medical shit." he rambled, looking around and going for the kitchen when you grabbed his arm. Daryl flinched but covered it with a shrug as he brushed your hand away.

"What's going on?" you asked, voice firm, serious now.

Daryl sighed, running a hand through his hair and looking toward the window. There was one now. Didn't know what to call 'em. They stumbled around, looking for something to eat. Used to be human. Not anymore.

"We don't know. Cops won't tell. News ain't saying shit no more. Power grid's out. And they're out there. Some virus or somethin'. It's turnin' people. Ain't people no more." Daryl grumbled, unsure and paranoid, all he knew was that he needed to get out of here. With you.

Daryl was not leaving without you.

you went silent, thinking, a chill crawling up your spine. Your mother was at work. You couldn't leave without her.

regardless, you went to your room and packed up what you could. Clothes, medical stuff, water, everything you could fit into your backpack.

and the baseball bat by the door.

you went back to the living room and Daryl had stuffed food and tools into a big backpack and slung it over his shoulder with his crossbow.

"What about my mom?" you asked. Daryl froze.

shit. He didn't have time for this. Only had so long before Merle just left without him. But he HAD to get you.

"Leave a note. We'll head to Atlanta. News said there was a refuge there." Daryl said, avoiding your eye and looking out the window instead.

you nodded and scrawled something down, putting it on the fridge with a magnet. Your eyes stopped on a photo of your mother and yourself on the fridge. Quickly, you grabbed it and stuffed it in your pocket.

you moved back to Daryl and soon were on your way.

Daryl knew what he was doing, but you were both on your own. The streets were eerily empty, with the occasional shuffling or groaning.

Daryl kept his crossbow on short hand, ready to protect you by any means.

you didn't want to leave without your mother. But Daryl dragged you out of there before you did something stupid.

and soon, after a while of walking, you reached Daryl's old broken down house in the sketchy streets he lived in. Merle, Daryl's older brother, was waiting outside by their truck and bike, he eyed you and Daryl as you walked up.

"Ya found yer girl, huh baby brother?" Merle teased, not phased by the state of the world.

Daryl slung some supply bags into the back of the car and ignored his brother's words.

you would go to Atlanta. With the Dixons.