#daisy5

[thatmansplayinggalaga]

Daisy Johnson in Season 5 → 5.01

[thatmansplayinggalaga]

Daisy Johnson in Season 5 → 5.03

[thatmansplayinggalaga]

Daisy Johnson in Season 5 → 5.02

[daisy-ramsey]

Lost in a Field of Daisies || Closed

Some days were good. Some days, she didn't feel like she was about to fall apart, didn't feel as if there world was ending around her. Some days were okay. Some days she felt down, but she buried herself under blankets for a few hours and rode out the storm. But other days... other days she was more than falling apart at the seams. Some days, she was already gone. Some days it was like she was a different person, like nothing in the world could hurt her anymore because she was too broken to take any more pain. Some days it felt as though she was never going to get better.

Some days it felt like she had nothing left to live for.

Those days were usually the ones where she slipped. Sometimes she forget to eat, or sleep, or do something or another. A simple thing, the kind of important thing that normal people did every day. But it just slipped her mind. And everyone once in a while, that thing was the tiny little thing she did during the day. Frankly, she knew she was lucky. She was a horrible person. Sometimes a despicable human being. Someone who deserves not being love. Oliver knew it. She never wanted to be this person. But you couldn't change the words on a page, and she couldn't change who she was. She wished she could. God, she wished she could.

Daisy was always afraid of those days. Afraid that one of these days, one of those stupid moments where she blacks out would be more drastic. A simple little thing. The slip of a knife, a trip off the curb, one too many pills down her throat. And no one would even care enough to find the body. She didn't have anyone here. Of course, there was her mother, but most days she felt her mother is in a worse shape than she is. Maybe it was something genetic. She was always told how similar she looks, and just how lucky she is for having such good looking parents. Parents. Of course, her father wasn't in the picture anymore, and she doubt if he would feel the tiniest pinch in his heart if he'd hear is daughter is dead. She wouldn't if she were him. She didn't have anyone at all. She'd go cold in some unmarked grave, and that would be the end of it. An anti climatic full stop to this war she'd been fighting since she was a girl.

At that particular moment, however, Daisy was too far gone to care about what she might or might not do. As often happened at the height of her moods, she somehow decided a bar was a good idea. She had the good sense to walk there, at the very least. But once she arrived, it had been easy. The place was so full of life, a life she could never touch. Maybe swallowing just one more glass could bring her closer. And so she did. She mixed her drinks and went at it as hard as she could. Because at the bottom of the bottle was the kind of oblivion she usually never wanted to find. She drank enough to knock out a horse, and then some. She pushed herself to the edge, just to see if she would fall.

It was late, though. The bar wasn't so busy, and the unfortunately wise bartender had cut her off about ten drinks too late. She could barely think straight, barely see straight. She was good at hiding it. Her words didn't slur so much, and she managed to walk reasonably straight for someone that had drunk so much. But her head still span and her senses still whirled and it wasn't until there was a hand down her pants that she realised someone was talking to her. Flirting with her. Quite aggressively. She didn't sleep with him. Didn't want to, at least. She tried no, and when that had failed she'd given up. She had done that before. Lost herself in sex because it was easier than reality. They called her a slut... whore. Made it very clear. Annie wasn't the first person to do that and the guy sticking his throat down her mouth wouldn't be the last. 

And the night became a day, and she stopped going to work because what's the point? And the daily socializing with her customers was from the other side of the counter, because what's another guy?