didn't feel quite so crazy anymore, and she thought it was because of the medicine she had started taking. Daisy had gotten relatively better with handling her thoughts and emotions.

Of course, though, there was always margin for error. Daisy had her next big breakdown at school.

Daisy was still worried that something bad was coming. There was far too much happiness for things to just be good. The universe was setting her up.

Daisy sat alone at lunch, not having an appetite and opting to just drink from her water bottle instead as she thought.

It was April already, and things had been going pretty well since February. Surely if something bad were to happen, it would've already happened by now...right?

But maybe that's what she was supposed to expect. She knew particularly well that death didn't abide by time limits.

Daisy was so scared of death. It was a rational fear, she thought. Right up there with bears, which she thought was equally appropriate given the commonality of the mammal in Washington. And bears are everywhere in Canada, which is equally frightening considering Washington borders Canada and bears plague Canada. Bears own Canada, and what's to stop all the bears in Canada from lurking over into Washington? Then they'd be everywhere in Washington, and Daisy wouldn't be able to even walk a block without running into a hungry and pissed off mama bear, and then Daisy would really have to worry about death because bears would rule the world and...and...

Daisy closed her eyes, trying to reframe her thoughts, a technique that Dr. Sen had taught her for when her thoughts started to spiral out of control.

There aren't any bears that live at Daisy's middle school. There aren't any bears that live at home. There aren't any bears casually strolling the streets of downtown Seattle.

Daisy is at school, Daisy spoke to herself in her head. Daisy isn't going to be mauled by a bear. Daisy is going to go home afterschool, and home is safe. There aren't any bears at home. Daisy is going to go home and eat dinner with Mark and Calypso. Bears would hate Mark's cooking anyway, so it all works out perfectly. Home is safe. Daisy is going to go home soon.

Daisy probably looked like she was meditating to any outside viewer when in reality she was trying to prevent a nervous breakdown because God bears are scary.

Daisy wanted to go home. She felt herself spiraling, and she didn't want anybody looking at her when she did. She wanted to be alone, and safe at home in the comfort of her bear-less apartment, and...something bad was going to happen, wasn't it?

Being OCD, of course that wasn't really anything new. Daisy sort of always thought something bad was going to happen if she didn't do what her brain told her to. Just last week, she'd had a nervous meltdown in the self-checkout line of the grocery store because her brain told her she needed to scan the canned peaches twelve times or they'd get into a car wreck on the way home. Mark, of course, wouldn't let her, because nobody in their right mind wanted to pay for the same can of peaches scanned twelve times.

It wasn't until Daisy started crying because Mark didn't understand, they were gonna die on the way home that the man begrudgingly paid the extra charge. Daisy had undoubtedly saved them from death, she knew she had, but she knew she wouldn't ever be allowed to go to the grocery store ever again.

This feeling she had was so different than just her obsessive-compulsiveness coming through, though. She genuinely felt like she had to constantly be alert, like something was coming, and that scared her. Her mind went to death, as it always did since she had grown so familiar with the monster. Daisy didn't want to die. Daisy didn't want Calypso to die. Daisy didn't want Mark to die. Daisy didn't want Callie to die, or Arizona, or Naomi, or...or even her obnoxious English teacher.

Maybe it was because she hadn't actually experienced comfort and happiness in years, and the feeling was so foreign. She felt like something bad had to be coming because that's the only thing the girl has ever known.

Maybe she was becoming a psychic. Maybe this was some sort of premonition, maybe she would grow up and become a fortune-teller. Maybe she'd open a shop by the docks and freak people out with mysterious readings.

Maybe this was one of those signs from beyond the grave. Maybe Mom and Dad were letting her know they would be seeing her soon. Maybe Mom and Dad were letting her know they would be seeing Calypso soon. Their daughter had been merely an infant during their deaths, not having yet developed any sort of personality...maybe they'd meet the extroverted six-year-old Daisy had grown to love more than anything.

Maybe they were warning her that Mark would be going, and they would have to be prepared to be forced back into the system. It would naturally make sense that just when Daisy was growing to love her placement, it would somehow be yanked away. This feeling of happiness in her new home wouldn't last long, and Daisy felt it.

Daisy was drawn back to reality by the sound of air being sucked from the bottle. Daisy had subconsciously emptied her entire bottle as she let her thoughts strangle her, no more water left. The girl decided she would have to empty her bladder as a result before English began.

She didn't like ever going to the bathroom at school. Not just because the janitors did a horrible job cleaning the restrooms—though that was part of it. But the stall doors were horribly misaligned, and it drove Daisy insane each time she walked into the restroom.

The creaking sound of the stall doors was so unpleasant too, it made Daisy want to open and close and open and close each door, just to work the creaks out.

The bell rang loudly, signaling the students had to move on to their next class.

Her peers walked together to class, grouped off with their best friends as they chatted.

The only things Daisy walked with happened to be her lunchbox full of untouched food and a heavy weight she carried both on her mind and in her heart.

Daisy dropped her lunchbox and bookbag off in her English classroom, exiting the room to quickly use the bathroom before the class started. She had about three minutes, and Daisy had no doubt she would be done in three minutes.

One-hundred eighty seconds in three minutes, divisble by fifteen. One-hundred eighty divided by fifteen is twelve.

Daisy tapped along her thigh as she walked and entered the restroom, deciding to tap in groups of fifteen, twelve different times. She could do that and use the bathroom in one-hundred eighty seconds.

One-seventy now, probably. You're wasting time, Daisy's brain scolded.

Daisy was always wasting time, though. What if this bad thing that was coming up really was death? What if it was her death, and she wasted all her time worrying about dying? That's no life to live, and Daisy would have the most boring obituary to read.

Daisy pushed open the stall door to an available bathroom on the end, immediately cringing at the sound of those stupid hinges.

Daisy wanted to slam the door, the sound it made was incredibly horrible. Daisy wanted to stop the horrible hinges from ever making anymore horrible sounds.

The girl momentarily forgot about having to use the bathroom, focused on counting now and only counting.

The school's gonna collapse, Daisy thought to herself. Rust is a sign of aging and so are creaks and so maybe there's a problem with the framework of the building. Maybe the creakiness is a telltale sign that the school is coming down.

Daisy transferred her tapping into more action, standing outside the stall and pulling the stall door back and forth and back and forth, like clockwork.

The whine of the metal hinges was maddening, but Daisy couldn't stop. She wanted to help, she wanted to save the school from collapsing.

Back and forth and back and forth.

Daisy counted to fifteen over and over as the door swung back and forth.

"Are...you okay?" Daisy's thoughts were interrupted by a girl that Daisy didn't recognize, and she was glad it was somebody she didn't recognize. Daisy was only really comfortable with Mark or Calypso seeing her in one of these fits, even Naomi was a stretch. Daisy would die of mortification if one of her classmates saw her at a time that her mental state chose to be so fragile.

Daisy decided not to respond, focusing instead on counting. Counting was good and safe. Home was good and safe. Daisy would be home in a few hours, and then she wouldn't have to worry about school buildings collapsing or people seeing her mannerisms.

"I have to pee, uh...can I get past you?"

Daisy was slightly blocking off the entry into the tiny bathroom as she stood and swung her door back and forth. It was inconsiderate of her, to be blocking people from using the other stalls. But Daisy thought it was inconsiderate of people to interrupt her counting.

Daisy counted high high high, as high as she could go, soaring past the number fifteen as she just kept climbing numbers. Numbers brought comfort, and Daisy was counting as rapidly as she could in her head.

"Should I go get somebody for you?"

"Mark." Daisy was quick to answer, as if this girl had any clue who Mark was. "Mark helps me. Or...or Calypso. You could go get Caly, or...or Mark. You should go get Caly or Mark."

"Who?"

Daisy wanted a hug. She wasn't usually a fan of hugs, considering she was slightly claustrophic and physical touch made her jumpy after Mr. Walter. But Daisy wanted a hug. Daisy wanted to be wrapped in a big hug in which her hands could stop swinging that door back and forth and she could breathe and let somebody else stand guard and protect her while she let her thoughts catch up to her.

"They both know how to help." Daisy explained as she let out a shaky exhale. "I can't go get them, though, because they're not here, and...and I have to stand guard and keep swinging this stall door or else the school is gonna collapse on all of us."

The girl stood before Daisy looked so truly baffled and freightened, and Daisy was reminded again why exactly she didn't have any friends.

• • • •

Perhaps the biggest perk of being mentally ill was getting to leave school early because you're going crazy.

Of course, having multiple mental illnesses was never fun, and Daisy would do anything to switch brains with somebody else, but she tried to make light of her situation.

"I think I know why I don't have friends." Daisy spoke absentmindedly to Mark in the car, clicking her seatbelt in its holder and then releasing it, creating a pattern of consistency as she repeated the action over and over. "It's 'cause I say what I'm thinking, and that scares people because my brain is so hostile and they're not used to somebody acting so crazy."

"You have friends, Daisy. And quit talking about yourself like that."

Daisy was highly encouraged to refrain from using the word crazy, and yet that was the only adjective Daisy could think of to describe herself. She just couldn't draw away from the word, no matter how often she was scolded.

"Not really. Calypso doesn't count, because she's my sister, and she's six. And all the other people I usually talk to are adult doctors. I don't have any age-appropriate friends. I scared the nice girl away today because I told her the building was gonna collapse."

"You told her what?" Mark wasn't sure whether to be concerned or amused.

"I thought the building was gonna collapse." Daisy explained, continuing to click click click her seatbelt in and out of its holder. "Because bad things are coming, and those bathroom doors are so creaky and so if they're creaky and worn then the building itself is probably creaky and worn and something bad is coming. I don't want anybody to die."

Mark had trouble focusing on anything that Daisy was saying. The clicking of Daisy's seatbelt was driving him crazy. "You know your chances of death hop way up if you're not buckled up."

"We won't have to worry about that if you're driving safely." Daisy countered. "So...so don't crash, or else it's gonna be your fault and I'm gonna remind you that it's your fault all the way until the car flips and our necks snap."

Daisy's brain was truly a scary place.

It was quiet for a little bit, Daisy's clicking the only sound present as the car sailed through the streets of Seattle.

"I can't keep taking you out school early, you know."

Mark was right, and Daisy knew that. She was dismissed from school early all the time because of these episodes she had in which her brain went into overdrive and she flipped out as she tried to count.

She couldn't help it, though. She didn't want to be seen in school when she got like that, and her brain was so impossibly cloudy that she couldn't clear it and just go back to class to learn. These episodes ruined her entire day, and sent her tapping and counting and clicking all the way until she went to bed.

"I need stronger meds." Daisy ignored Mark, thinking maybe that was the problem. Maybe the medication wasn't working and maybe Daisy really was sane but it was just the pill's fault.

"You already have strong meds. You'll be knocked out for the day if you up your dosage anymore."

Daisy didn't know that that was actually a bad thing, though. Maybe it would be nice to have her brain go to sleep, to not have to think or feel anything.

The clicking never once ceased. It was a perfectly timed pattern, and it was a good pattern.

Daisy watched every turn they took. A right, and then a left. Up all the way to the bank, and then another right.

Daisy loved being so attentive. It eased her nerves. She loved not having to anticipate what came next. She loved knowing where they were turning before Mark even flicked his turn signal.

Familiarity was such a lovely thing. Daisy didn't know if familiarity classified as a feeling or an emotion or what, but it was such a nice thing to experience. A sense of relief that washes over you. Daisy decided there was nothing better.

They got to the familiar apartment that Daisy knew so well. Daisy usually didn't like breaking her patterns, but she found herself immediately ceasing the clicking sound, letting the seatbelt go limp as she opened the car door.

Upon closing the door behind her though, she instinctively reached for the handle again.

That one didn't feel right. Do it again.

A quick repetition. Daisy opened the car door, closing it behind her as she got on her way.

Life was often like that. Daisy felt the need to backtrack all the time and do things over again if they didn't feel right. Sometimes she'd walk down the school building stairs, just to take three steps back and walk down the same stairs again. Sometimes her finger placement wasn't quite right if she flicked her light switch on the way out, and she had to walk back into her room and turn it on and off again.

If Daisy had the ability to do everything in her life over again as she did with light switches and car doors, Daisy decided she would live a happy and perfect life.

The girl focused on walking ahead with one foot in front of the other, and she couldn't have been more excited to go inside. Inside was safe. Home was safe. Home was familiar. People couldn't look and gawk and judge and stare at home. It was so nice when people couldn't stare.

Daisy tap tap tapped her fingers all the way up to their floor, tapping and counting the only thing keeping her from dangling off the brink of insanity.

Daisy waited as patiently as she could for Mark to unlock the front door, and she felt like she could breathe once she walked inside, in the safety of her home.

Daisy began to take her shoes off, wanting to feel more comfortable.

Put them back on.

Daisy did what her brain told her to, sitting down on the cold hardwood floor to lace up the shoes she had just taken off.

Finally laced, her brain kept tormenting her.

Take them off. Take them off take them off take them off, shoes aren't for inside.

Daisy pulled the end of her shoelace, watching the knotted thread slowly unravel as the tightness around her feet became looser, and she began to take the shoes off.

Put them back on. There are germs everywhere, there are so many unsafe things everywhere. You could step on glass or get a splinter or walk somewhere unsanitary and then you're practically just spreading bacteria everywhere and you're making the apartment a bacteria breeding paradise.

Daisy laced her shoes the best way she knew how to, the way Dad had taught her when she was Calypso's age. Tiny bunny ears, and a pull. Tiny bunny ears, and a pull.

Calypso is safe when you take your shoes off. Mark is safe when you take your shoes off. Things are comfortable and good when you take your shoes off. Daisy is safe when you take your shoes off.

The process seemed to go on forever, though it didn't seem like it to Daisy. It just seemed like another pattern she was creating. She couldn't count how many times she had laced and unlaced and laced and unlaced and laced and unlaced those shoe strings.

Mark pursed his lips as he watched, vaguely concerned. He was used to the patterns, of course. He was used to the tapping and the counting and the red plates at dinner and the blue sweaters on Tuesdays.

But this seemed different. Daisy didn't seem like herself.

"You okay?"

Daisy drowned out the words, focusing on the familiarity of the pattern she had created. Laced, and then unlaced. Two bunny ears and a pull, and then a single pull to unravel it all.

"Daisy."

"I'm protecting us." Daisy explained her actions, not once faltering as her hands continued to move like a needleworker's, her fingers weaving in and out. "Because something bad is coming, for me, or you, or...or Calypso. I'm gonna protect us."

Mark didn't see how constantly tying and untying shoes could be classified as saving the family from doom, but he didn't question it. Calypso would be done with school in just a couple hours, and seeing her sister would probably ease Daisy significantly.

Mark didn't want to just leave the kid sitting alone on the floor, but he knew better than to interrupt her pattern.

He decided instead on doing some work in the kitchen, cleaning up the messy space. Close enough that he could keep an eye on her, but far enough away that she didn't feel like he was crowding her space.

Mark had just gotten home from work when he got the call from Daisy's school to come pick her up, so he hadn't really had time to survey his surroundings. He hadn't had time to do anything other than change and grab the car keys.

He immediately frowned when he spotted the medicine on the counter. Three pills of different colors and sizes, laid out on a paper towel by Naomi for Daisy to take with her breakfast.

Somebody had overlooked them, because the pills were very much sitting laid out on the counter untouched, and the kid was on the floor playing with shoelaces.

"Did you take your medicine today, Daisy?"