hated psychiatry.

It's not that there was anything particularly wrong with the session itself. Dr. Sen was very nice and patient, and his leather couch was incredibly comfy.

But it felt so uncomfortable to Daisy. The whole...talking part. All of it really.

Calypso was always the talkative sister. Daisy wondered if Calypso would be able to be so open and vulnerable if she had to go to psychiatry.

Then again, Calypso didn't have to go to psychiatry, and she probably would never have to. As opposed to her sister, she wasn't crazy.

Calypso didn't have to watch their mother wither away like a dead flower. Calypso didn't remember being told by a police officer that their father had been killed in an accident. Calypso didn't have to be on the receiving end of Mr. Walter's fist.

It was all Daisy, and Daisy had never in her life been so jealous of a six-year-old.

Daisy remembered being six. She had a weird obsession with sidewalk chalk, and her hair was much lighter like Calypso's. It had grown darker over the years, resembling the color of her father's hair as opposed to her mother's.

Those were the days of life as an only child. Being an only child was the worst, and Daisy always begged her parents for a sibling. A little brother was alright, but a little sister was the dream. Daisy wanted a little sister so bad.

And she got one. Six was a good age for Daisy. It was the year Mom found out she was pregnant, and it was the last year Mom was as healthy as ever. The last good year of Daisy's life.

If life had a rewind button, Daisy would be the first to use it. She would live in the past, if she could. She wouldn't have to worry about the present. The present that was plagued with quizzes, and psychiatry, and diagnoses.

Dr. Sen had made a diagnosis. Daisy did have OCD. And social anxiety. And clinical depression. The list just kept getting longer and longer, and Daisy hated the fact that she felt triple crazy.

"Let's not use that word." Dr. Sen had frowned at Daisy's use of the word crazy. "Mental illness doesn't make you crazy, it just means you need a little extra help to feel like yourself again."

But Daisy felt pretty crazy. And she hadn't felt like herself in years, talking it out wasn't going to magically fix her.

"Do you ever...intensely miss your mother?" Dr. Sen asked, looking surprised when Daisy shook her head. "Your father?"

"Not really."

That was a major lie. Daisy thought about her parents every second of every day, and she would do anything to spend one more moment with them again.

But if she talked about it, she would definitely cry, and how embarrassing would it be to cry in front of a total stranger?

Besides, it had been years. Daisy was used to the absence of her mom and dad. It wasn't anything out of the ordinary, and it certainly wasn't anything she should be crying about now.

"It's...alright to express emotion." Dr. Sen spoke slowly. "That's a good thing. When people don't express emotion, that's when they tend to lean into their sociopathic tendencies."

Sociopathic.

Daisy knew what a sociopath was. A person who didn't feel any emotion whatsoever, as opposed to a psychopath who is just crazy and feels the most intensely, out-of-tune emotions.

Psychopaths are born, it's wired into their brains. But sociopaths are made.

The idea of being a sociopath scared Daisy a bit. That must be awful not being able to feel any sort of emotion.

But...maybe it's nice, too. Daisy wondered what it would feel like to be a sociopath, to not have to worry about feelings of sadness or anxiety 24/7.

Daisy didn't chime into Dr. Sen's conversations, something he seemed a tiny bit upset about. It was obvious that he wanted her to socialize and engage, and she just...wasn't.

Daisy instead sat silently, making observations of the man's office.

There was a poster of sorts framed on the side wall of the office filled with the most colorful birds. It was a chart, listing the name of each one. Daisy decided she would rather shift conversation towards that as opposed to conversation about mental illnesses and her past traumas.

"You have a picture of birds." Daisy noted, her eyes raking over the variety of color each bird held within its feathers. "My sister likes birds."

When Daisy was six, her favorite animal was a puppy. She found it a bit peculiar that Calypso loved birds so much.

"She does?" Dr. Sen asked, seeming intrigued when Daisy nodded. "What's her favorite bird?"

"The pink ones."

Daisy was vague, and birds usually didn't come in pink hues. It could've helped to specify, but luckily Dr. Sen seemed to understand what she was saying.

"Flamingoes?" Dr. Sen questioned, Daisy nodding.

Flamingoes. Calypso liked flamingoes. They had visited the zoo once before when Calypso was much much younger, and Dad had to all but pry her from the exhibit. Calypso was purely infatuated, even as a baby, and Daisy didn't understand what was to love about birds with pink feathers and freakishly long legs.

"How old is your sister?" Dr. Sen asked, beginning to type something on his computer.

"Six."

"Six. She's pretty young." Dr. Sen stated the blatantly obvious, Daisy nodding in confirmation. "How old was she when your parents died?"

She had only been a year old when Mom died, two-years-old when Dad died. Calypso didn't have a single memory of her parents, and Daisy wasn't sure if that made her the luckiest or unluckiest person alive.

"Uh...really young."

"Does she have any recollection of your parents?" Dr. Sen questioned. Daisy shook her head, and Dr. Sen raised an eyebrow. "Not a single memory?"

Not a single memory.

Again, Daisy shook her head, prompting Dr. Sen to continue.

"And...does that ever make you sad? The fact that she doesn't remember your parents?"

Daisy was so torn on that issue, actually.

The sisters had lucked out in the parent department. Mom and Dad were always so good to them, it tore Daisy apart that Calypso couldn't remember them. She couldn't recall Mom's warm hugs, or the way that Dad used to smile so widely his eyes would crinkle.

But Daisy was envious, because Calypso had a clean slate. Since she couldn't remember them, there was nothing to miss. There was no heartache over the want to be with them again, to see them again. Calypso had a clean slate, and Daisy would never have that. Her slate would always be damaged and chipped.

"Maybe."

Dr. Sen observed Daisy for a moment. It was clear that she had so many thoughts constantly running, but she spoke so little. Maybe that was why her brain was troubling her so much, she couldn't get any of her thoughts out. She kept far too quiet while it all built up inside.

"Why does that make you sad?" Dr. Sen attempted to coax some words out of Daisy.

The teenager merely shrugged, though, and it was clear to Dr. Sen that he wouldn't be getting much more information out of her this session.

"Maybe we can talk about this during our next session." Dr. Sen spoke kindly. "Thank you for coming in, Daisy."

Daisy frowned at the man's words. The session was a little shorter than she had thought it would be. And...Daisy also thought this was kind of a one time thing. She had to come back and do this again?

She didn't waste any time in leaving, though, having no problem standing up and walking out the door.

Daisy couldn't remember where Mark had told her to wait when she was done. Was it the cafeteria? Or the lounge? The waiting room?

Daisy passed a couple doors labeled with blue plaques that read Storage. A storage closet? Er...maybe not. Daisy was pretty positive that Mark wouldn't tell Daisy to just sit and wait alone in a storage closet.

Of course, Daisy could very easily just stay in Dr. Sen's office and wait for Mark there, but that would be incredibly awkward. Daisy was tired of awkward, and she was tired of psychiatry. She was done with that room for the day.

A semi-lost Daisy found herself walking down the halls past many doctors and fellow patients.

The faces of all the people she passed were all unfamiliar, and they all blended together. Daisy had no clue where she was in the hospital, the hallways all looked the same to her.

She was very relieved when she saw Derek at the nurses station, happy to have found a familiar face.

"Hi." Daisy spoke as she appeared beside the man.

Derek looked over at her, and he definitely saw her, but he appeared to not be very mentally present—like his mind was clouded.

"...Hi." He spoke cautiously, seeming a tiny bit confused. Halloween had been a couple weeks ago, sure. But did he really not recognize her?

"Daisy."

Derek's face relaxed a little as a wave of familiarity washed over him. "Daisy, right. I knew that."

He definitely didn't know that, though. Daisy was positive that Derek had forgotten who she was at first, something that embarrassed her just a little bit.

"Do you know where the cafeteria is?"

Derek still only stared at her for a moment. Something was really pressing on his brain, that was obvious.

"Yeah." Derek spoke slowly. "Yeah. I'll...take you."

Daisy watched as Derek turned his attention back to the patient chart he had been filling out. He winced as his eyes scanned over the information, his hand snapping the binder shut.

Derek turned and began down the hall, Daisy taking that cue to follow beside him so that she could successfully make her way to the cafeteria. If Daisy had to try to navigate by herself, she would definitely get lost again.

"I'm sorry." Derek shook his head, seeming like he was trying to shake himself out of his trance. "It's been a...weird morning. A bad one. I had to tell two parents that their daughter is dead."

Daisy frowned at that, feeling the goosebumps on her arms. There was always something that had spooked her about death, but even more so death in the hospital. "Did you..."

Daisy decided not to finish that sentence. Did you kill her wasn't exactly the most appropriate question to be asking. It seemed a little harsh too, and Derek looked majorly troubled already.

"I didn't kill her." Derek mumbled, seeming to have picked up what Daisy was implying. "She was bleeding out too quickly, there wasn't anything I could do, I...I..."

Silence. Derek made the executive decision to just stop talking as he struggled with his words, and Daisy felt guilty for having pried.

Daisy knew how it felt though, receiving the news from a doctor that the most important person in your life is gone. It was impossibly devastating to be on the receiving end, Daisy bet it was impossibly devastating to be the one having to give that news. Maybe that was why Derek looked so drained.

"Shouldn't you be in school?" Derek questioned as they walked, seeming to finally wonder why she was here at 11:00 on a Thursday. "Are you sick? Are you a patient here?"

"Kind of." Daisy shrugged, her answer intended for the last two questions. "I went to see the psychiatrist."

"The psychiatrist." Derek nodded, seeming to approve of that idea. "For your whole 'counting to sixteen' thing."

"Fifteen." Daisy corrected.

"Right, fifteen." Derek corrected himself. "Do you feel better?"

Daisy frowned at that, her eyes glued on the floor tiles as she walked. "Not really."

"Psychiatry's an investment, things aren't magically going to work overnight. You'll feel better after more sessions." Derek tried to be encouraging, which Daisy appreciated, but she wasn't so sure.

Psychiatry seemed to be so slow-moving, and she didn't feel any different after having talked to Dr. Sen than she did at the start of the morning. With the way things were going, Daisy figured she would have better luck just asking Derek to cut into her head and see what the heck was happening in there.

Upon finally making it to the east wing of the hospital, Derek began to slow his pace. He stopped almost completely, and Daisy frowned when she saw that they were in a hallway passing through a waiting room. Daisy was confused on account of the fact that this certainly wasn't the cafeteria.

"The cafeteria is...it's down the hall. The first left, and then the...second right." Derek was talking slow again, as if his brain was clouded like it had been earlier.

Daisy followed Derek's gaze, training her eyes on a man and a woman sitting alone in the waiting room.

They weren't doing anything to attract attention. They weren't crying, or screaming, or...or pacing the waiting room impatiently.

They only sat, and they looked...numb, in the worst way possible.

The way that Derek looked at them made Daisy think that these were the parents of the dead girl.

"I'm gonna...I'll go." Daisy cleared her throat, beginning to walk away. "Thank you."

Derek didn't react to Daisy's words at all, instead slowly walking over to the numb man and woman. They looked so lifeless, and Daisy felt bad for them.

There's something so harrowing about that whole moment. Daisy remembered feeling a thousand different emotions when the nurse with the honey blonde hair had told her that her mom was gone. You want to cry, but you also want to punch something, but you also want to scream, but you also want to vomit, but you also want to yell at the stupid nurse. A thousand different wants to cover up the fact that what you really want is your mom.

Daisy winced at the whole memory, choosing to suppress it so she wouldn't have to think about it. Being in a hospital was not good for Daisy's mental health. It brought back way too many unpleasant memories of Mom's time in the hospital.

Daisy focused instead on maneuvering her way to the cafeteria. The first left down the hallway, Derek had said. And then the second right.

Daisy could manage that. She was bad at finding her way around, but once she knew where she was heading? She was golden.

Except...the cafeteria was really big. Much bigger than Daisy had anticipated.

There were doctors and patients alike, and way too many of them. Daisy immediately felt overwhelmed with the amount of people, and she knew she would freak out if she had to sit in there and wait.

Daisy decided it would be a much safer bet to sit in a quieter place instead. The girl needed a place to be alone.

A hospital bustling with busy doctors and sick patients wasn't exactly an ideal place to search for quiet places, but that was okay. Daisy didn't mind searching.

She thought maybe a waiting room would be a good idea. Daisy definitely didn't want to go back to the waiting room with the numb parents sitting there, that would make her sad.

She left the cafeteria, choosing to exit down the hallway opposite of where she had come in.

Daisy walked steadily, counting the floor tiles as she did. To her dismay, the floor tiles weren't evenly spread out in groups of fifteen, something she found to be stupid.

Why didn't the rest of the world count to fifteen? Daisy was convinced that society would run much smoother if everyone took up her philosophy of counting to fifteen.

Moments of walking and counting occupied her until she had reached a relatively abandoned waiting area, a light green rug sprawled out beneath a whole lot of wooden chairs.

Daisy took a seat in the wooden chair farthest in the corner, farthest isolated from the rest of the hospital. She found it funny that none of the bustling nurses questioned why she was sitting there alone. Maybe they were too busy, maybe Daisy just looked older than thirteen. Maybe it was the same reason she couldn't make friends, they thought she looked intimidating.

Daisy frowned at that. How does one make friends? It's not like she's trying to push everyone away. Why do people treat her like she's got some sort of disease that they're scared to catch?

Probably because of the way she acted today.

Daisy cringed as she thought of what had gone down. Nervous breakdowns were no strange occurrence, they happen all the time. The difference is that Daisy usually is able to wait until she's alone in her bedroom to break down. That's what normal people do, anyway.

And the triple whammy of diagnoses. It was like she had three anvils weighing her down.

Daisy wondered if people would look at her differently once they found out that she had mental illnesses. She wondered if Mark would shove it in her face that he was right about the OCD. She wondered if the kids at school would distance themselves even more.

Calypso wouldn't, though, and that made her happy. Daisy could be the worst person to have ever graced the planet, and Calypso would still love her. Daisy couldn't wait until 3:00 pick up, she seriously needed to see her sister.

People walked all around in the halls outside the waiting area. The TV in the corner was set on the local news station, dull news anchors droning on about the weekend reports. The magazines on the end table ranged from interior design to cooking recipes to celebrity tabloids.

Daisy watched each person pass by where she sat. Everyone looked different. They all had different hair colors, different skin colors, different eye colors.

Daisy wondered how many of those people also felt crazy. She wondered how many of them had trouble making friends.

Leaning back in her seat, Daisy let out a breath. She didn't know how long until Mark would come, and she didn't know how long until it was time to pick Calypso up from school.

Daisy didn't have a problem waiting. But she longed for that 3:00 pick-up, and she longed for some sort of normalcy in her life.