would be lying if she said that she had the worst Christmas ever.

It had been relatively good. Happy even, a drastic turn-around from last Christmas.

Daisy was still guarded of course, waiting for Mark to drop a bombshell on the girls.

But Christmas had passed, and the new year was rapidly approaching. Daisy wasn't quite sure what to do with herself. The girls never made it to Christmas with a placement, much less after.

Everything felt happy for a few days. Calypso was very happy, of course, she always was. Even Daisy felt relatively happy.

But Daisy was not happy to find out that Mark was dragging the girls to a Christmas party a few days after Christmas.

Based off what Daisy knew, Christmas parties were loud and crowded and there was lots of alcohol. Daisy and alcohol were a big no-no because of her experience with Mr. Walter, and she sort of hoped Mark wouldn't purposefully drag her into that.

Daisy trudged along behind Mark and Calypso as they walked up the sidewalk of the Grey-Shepherd household.

Daisy had already tried to convince Mark to let her stay home, but the answer had been a blatant no. Apparently there would be other kids there, and it would be "good for her to socialize".

What did Mark know? Daisy socialized. Daisy socialized with people far more than she wished to. If it was up to her, she would hide forever from the rest of the world under her blankets.

The house that they walked up to was decked out with Christmas decorations. It was also incredibly large, and Daisy was convinced that it was less of a house and more of a borderline-mansion type of thing.

Another thing that Daisy noted as they walked inside of the house was that it was loud, and there were a lot of people.

Granted, she knew the vast majority of these people, but it still didn't change the fact that her anxiety instantly skyrocketed.

"Sloan!" Jackson was the first person to acknowledge Mark from across the room, holding up a glass filled with dark liquid that looked suspiciously like alcohol, something that made Daisy even more uneasy.

Mark held up a hand in a gesture that told the man to wait a moment as he led the girls upstairs.

The second floor was much quieter and much more peaceful than the first, and Daisy liked it.

They stopped when they reached a door at the end of the hall, a room that Daisy figured had to be Zola's playroom. It was littered with toys and dolls and all sorts of coloring pages.

Calypso had no problem walking right inside of the room and making herself comfortable. She seemed pretty excited about all the toys that she was spotting.

Daisy couldn't quite do the same though. There were only two other kids in here, one of them being Zola. Daisy knew the couple hours that they were here would drag on at the speed of molasses.

Zola was little, Calypso was little, the other boy in here looked to be little too. Daisy felt incredibly out of place as she stood in the doorway, she felt too old.

She also felt kind of offended that Mark was just sticking her here. It felt a whole lot like being stuck at the kid's table on Thanksgiving.

"Do I have to stay in here?" Daisy mumbled, surveying the room of children's toys.

"You'll have a blast." Mark spoke in an incredibly unconvincing manner, something that made Daisy question that statement. "Have fun, knock yourselves out. Don't take that into literal context. I'll be downstairs."

Daisy frowned, wanting to object, but Mark had already turned to leave.

So that would be how the rest of the night played out, Daisy supposed. Mark would have fun with all of the people he knew and Daisy would be forced to play babysitter for a room of kids.

Daisy sighed as she made her way over to Zola, taking a seat beside the toddler. Besides Calypso, Zola was her only source of familiarity in this room, and Calypso didn't seem quite interested in hanging out with her big sister at the moment.

The toddler took an interest in Daisy as she immediately shoved one of her building blocks into the older girl's hand. Daisy grinned, taking that as a personal invitation to play with the building blocks.

Building all sorts of things with the blocks was fun for a while. But there were only so many castles and houses and figurines you could make with building blocks, not to mention a destructive Zola that kept trying to tear her blocks down for comedic purposes. Daisy found herself growing seriously bored.

She figured they must have been there for at least an hour. Though she doubted Mark was going to leave after only being at a party for an hour, she was ready to go.

Daisy fixated her attention on her little sister who had befriended the little boy. Tuck, his name was. He looked to be a little bit older than Calypso, but both kids seemed to be having so much fun, and Daisy was envious of the way that her sister was able to make friends.

So while Zola wandered off to the other corner of the room to go play with her Barbie dolls instead, and Calypso and Tuck took turns piecing together a puzzle, Daisy sat alone with the large building blocks. Which...wasn't great for her, considering being alone was a big fear she had.

Daisy had so many phobias in life, and they all seemed to switch severity depending on her experiences.

The fear of dying had been a big one for Daisy after Mom had died. She had been so paranoid that disease would creep in like a silent killer to take away her dad, or her sister, or even herself. The prospect that just about anybody could get sick and drop dead terrified her.

Her fear of cars had been off the charts after Dad had died. Getting into a car was prone to give her all sorts of nervous breakdowns for that entire year.

More recently though, her fears seemed to be centered around her time with the Walters. The physical abuse had obviously put Daisy in a bad state of mind, and the stench of alcohol that enabled Mr. Walter always made Daisy's head spin.

But the neglect that she had been shown those horrible months made the fear of being alone seem so much bigger than alcoholism or abuse.

Daisy felt a little shaky as her brain regressed to those horrible moments with the Walters. Everything was burned so freshly into her mind, it felt like those events had transpired a few days ago rather than nearly a year ago.

The hitting and the yelling and the insults. The bruises and the crying and the trying to hide from Mr. Walter. It all swarmed back to Daisy so quickly, it took her breath away.

Daisy was nervous. Usually, when she had these recurring memories that pushed her to the edge of a nervous breakdown, she was at home. She was able to cry and think about the horrors alone, and Calypso and Mark never knew.

But now they were at a party. She wasn't quite sure what she would do if she were to have such a breakdown at a party in a house full of people, and she didn't care to find out. She wanted to go home and let her thoughts strangle her in private.

"Calypso." Daisy spoke, her voice somewhere between a whisper and an urgent plea.

Calypso turned to face her sister, seeming a little annoyed that Daisy had interrupted her intense puzzle-making session.

Daisy glanced over at the door nervously before continuing. "Could you go get Mark?"

Calypso frowned at that. She was having fun, and she didn't want to stop making the puzzle with her new friend. "Why can't you go get him?"

Going downstairs with all of those people would most definitely push Daisy over the edge, and she knew it too. She couldn't be down there with her anxiety at such a breaking point.

Daisy frowned, giving Calypso a pleading look. "Please?"

"You go get him, Dais. I'm playing." Calypso was insistent.

It was clear that Calypso thought her sister was just being lazy as opposed to being on the verge of a panic attack.

Tuck frowned from beside Calypso, looking over at Daisy. He wasn't paying attention to their conversation, and he just guessed from the sad look on Daisy's face that the girl was being excluded. "You can make a puzzle with us, if you want."

Calypso nodded at the boy's words, looking back at her sister. "Do you want to help us with our puzzle?"

Daisy only stared at Calypso. She was slightly peeved that her sister cared more about a puzzle than she did helping her older sister.

Daisy stood up from her spot in the corner, approaching the door. If Calypso wouldn't help, Daisy would find Mark herself.

The upstairs hallway was dark, and she followed the glow of the downstairs light to find the staircase.

As she reached the large wooden staircase, the chatter from downstairs became louder and louder. Daisy grew anxious with each step she took down towards the party.

But she figured it couldn't be that hard to just find Mark and ask him if they could leave. It wouldn't be that hard, she could do it.

Daisy tried to give herself that same pep talk over and over as she walked, telling herself that she could do it.

But she was incredibly overwhelmed when she reached the bottom step and saw that the size of the Christmas party had tripled in the hour or so that they'd been there.

She needed to leave, though. If she turned away now and went back upstairs, who knows how long it would take for them to actually leave. Daisy needed to leave so that she could cry in private, she was far too anxious for any of this.

With her hands shaking steadily, Daisy tried to push her way through all the people standing around conversing.

Her brain was scattered and cloudy, her thoughts moving rapidly at the same pace as her heart, the organ pumping faster and faster.

Daisy knew deep down that none of these people around her actually cared about what she was doing, but she couldn't help but feel like everyone was watching her. Like they all knew she was on the edge of a breakdown and they all wanted to sit and watch and see how the train wreck played out.

Daisy's bottom lip began to tremble, a telltale sign that her nerves were ready to explode. Her bottled emotions wanted to come out at once, and Daisy just wanted to go home.

She scanned each room she entered, looking desperately at each face to see if she could spot Mark.

Daisy didn't pay attention at all to the people closest around her, her eyes only focused on the people farther back in the room. Maybe that's how it all happened.

Daisy collided hard with somebody as she walked, her eyes squeezing tightly shut at the impact.

But the sound of glass shattering on the hardwood floor made Daisy's eyes snap open, and she was instantly met with the sight of a confused looking Alex.

Alex sort of reminded Daisy of Mr. Walter in an eerie way, and she couldn't describe it. She had such a hard time distinguishing if it was Alex in front of her or Mr. Walter as her memories took her back.

The stench of beer sent her olfactory senses haywire. As always when Mr. Walter was screaming, Calypso was crying in the background.

Mr. Walter had the most maniacal glint in his eyes, and Daisy's only comfort was that if Mr. Walter hurt her too badly, Calypso at least knew how to dial 9-1-1.

Daisy wanted to shield herself from Mr. Walter, but it was like she was stuck again. She couldn't move, she could only watch in horror as the man approached her.

"Daisy!" Mr. Walter snapped, his footsteps matching the hammering on Daisy's heart. His voice was scratchy and harsh as he called loudly to scold the girl. "Daisy!"

"Daisy?" Alex's voice was much quieter than Mr. Walter's. He put his hand on Daisy's shoulder, causing the girl to flinch as she broke out of her weird trance.

Everything was all too much for her. Instead of her olfactory senses, this time it was her visual senses going haywire.

The glass that had harbored Alex's drink was shattered into pieces on the floor. In addition, the drink that had been in Alex's glass was currently soaking his expensive-looking dress shoes. The people surrounding the two were all staring, and Daisy had never in her life wanted to disappear so badly.

She pulled away from Alex as quickly as she could, trying to push through all the people again as she made her way towards the stairs. Daisy didn't want to be a person who ran away from things, but she was so scared of facing retaliation. She had been as strong as she could all throughout her placement with the Walters, but she knew factually that she wasn't strong enough to go through that again.

And she might've just put herself in that position, all because she was clumsy and bumped into somebody.

Daisy was always such a careful and calculated person, how had she been stupid enough to not watch where she was going?

Daisy took one step after the other as she made her way upstairs. Her little sister and Tuck could be heard giggling in the playroom, but Daisy decided to steer clear of them.

She instead made her way down the hallway a little bit, stopping when she reached the hall closet.

Daisy and Calypso always used to hide from Mr. Walter in their bedroom closet, Daisy figured it would only be right for her to follow tradition and hide among the jackets so as to avoid any hitting from Alex, or even Mark.

Daisy bet that Alex would tell Mark. He would tell Mark, and then...and then Mark would be infuriated. He would lash out and hit her, and so the endless cycle would begin.

Daisy closed the closet door as she sat down, letting her back hit the wall as she tried to let out the quietest sob that she could possibly manage.

She didn't want the hitting to become an endless cycle again.

Daisy was too tired for the hitting to become a normal thing. She had Calypso to take care of, too. Calypso had just gotten her happiness back, and Daisy was scared it would go away for good if the hitting started again. Calypso wouldn't ever stop being sad if the hitting started, and that's what Daisy was most worried about.

The dark closet was quiet, and Daisy liked that. The people downstairs were muffled, Calypso and Tuck's loud chatting was muffled. Daisy was left alone with her cries, and that weirdly comforted her.

But then her thoughts caught up with her again, and she couldn't help but let out another sob. Her breathing wasn't even as she struggled to inhale the oxygen she so desperately needed.

She thought back to last Christmas and the horrors that had ensued at the Walter residence. The empty house on Christmas morning, the fits of yelling and screaming. The punches that never ended, for then Mr. Walter's joy would end, and how else would he find joy if not for using Daisy as a punching bag?

Daisy cringed at her invasive thoughts. There were about a million different things she wanted to do.

She wanted to begin her tapping against her leg, hoping that maybe she would find some comfort in counting.

But she also wanted to use her hands to plug her ears. She swore she could still hear Mr. Walter's yelling so freshly, she wanted to block his voice out.

Ultimately however, Daisy just really needed a hug. Calypso was the only person that was really ever allowed to give her hugs though, and Calypso wasn't here.

Daisy decided to let her legs act as a replacement Calypso, pulling her knees up to her chest as she hugged them closely, her cries not letting up as she panicked.

Daisy tapped rapidly against her leg, trying to count in groups as she did so.

15, 30, 45.

60, 75, 90.

105, 120, 135.

150, 165, 180.

195, 210...

It wasn't working. Counting was Daisy's universal solvent for easing all of her worries, and it wasn't working.

Daisy let out another sob. She was trying her hardest to be quiet, but she felt like she needed to scream to get it all out.

Seemingly, Daisy hadn't been crying as quietly as she had hoped. That was made evident in the way that the closet door was opened, and Daisy didn't even have to look up to know that it was Mark.

She clenched her fists up tightly, bracing for impact. She had been through this exact scenario, and she already knew what to expect. Mentally, she would never be ready for the impact. But she knew how to physically brace herself, and that's the best she could do.

Mark only frowned, not sure what the girl was doing. With her fists balled up, Daisy sort of looked like she was ready to punch Mark, and Mark took that as a sign to approach the situation with caution. He really didn't want to get clocked by a thirteen-year-old.

Mark examined the closet, looking over all of the jackets as well as Daisy sitting right beside a rack of shoes. "I don't think a closet is the best place to cry."

Naturally, Daisy let out a louder cry at that.

Mark examined the small closet again, soon finding himself kneeling down to take a seat beside Daisy.

It occurred to Mark that he had never seen Daisy cry.

He had seen Calypso cry more times than he could count. She cried when she got a cut on her arm, or when she was really frustrated with her reading exercises. Sometimes, she cried just because she was sad, and she couldn't explain it. She especially cried when she had an accident in the middle of the night, that situation occurring quite a few times. Despite Mark promising that it's okay, Calypso is always so convinced that she's in major trouble.

But in the few months that he's known Daisy, he hasn't seen the girl shed a tear. He wasn't sure if Daisy was just a sociopath that never tended to cry, or if she did all of her crying alone in her bedroom.

Daisy of course knew the answer, and it happened to be the latter. Daisy cried often, especially when thinking about her parents or Mr. Walter. She just does a phenomenal job of quietly crying once everyone else has gone to bed.

Mark didn't say anything, just listening as Daisy cried.

She desperately needed to slow down and take some deep breaths, but Mark knew if he told her that she would likely just get frustrated.

He instead started to do some deep-breathing himself, hoping that maybe Daisy would hear him and would subconsciously start taking deep breaths.

It seemed to work for a little bit. Daisy would try to take a deep breath in between her cries, her labored breathing making her breath hitch.

"There you go." Mark spoke gently as he nodded, not taking his eyes off of Daisy. "You okay?"

Daisy felt her lip tremble, and she felt ready to let it all loose again. She wasn't okay, she felt horrible. Humiliated. Mortified. Scared. Saddened. There weren't enough words for all of the emotions circulating through her brain.

She tried to take another deep breath, her inhalations and exhalations as shaky as ever.

Mark frowned at Daisy's silence. It was obvious that she didn't want to talk, so Mark figured he would do the talking.

He let his head rest against the closet wall, turning his attention forward as his gaze was set on the picture frames that were hung up on the opposite wall of the hallway.

"I had a patient the other day with a really big nose." Mark spoke, narrowing his eyes as he recalled the memory. "I mean, this thing was colossal, Dais."

Daisy sniffled, looking over at Mark for the first time. She was confused about what noses had to do with any of this. "What?"