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Daisy sighed, the first of many tears rolling down her face as she took a shuddery breath.
The door clicked shut behind her as she sunk down against it, sliding until she hit the floor with a less than gentle thud.
She pulled her knees tight to her chest, trying to make herself as small as physically possible.
Small small small.
Daisy certainly felt small.
But she wasn’t.
No, she was twenty-seven now.
So far from small.
It felt strange to be consciously aware of her birthday; her real one.
She hadn’t told anyone yet, the only person she had truly wanted to celebrate with was Jemma, but she had gotten swallowed by that fucking rock.
Her poor, sweet Jemma.
An angel on earth, the person she loved and trusted more than anyone, and she had lost her.
The universe must really have it out for her, she thought.
Daisy Johnson was twenty-seven years old, and her life still hadn't been stable for more than a single year.
And she had lost anyone she had ever loved.
Everyone she had ever trusted.
Gone.
Gone gone gone.
Sometimes, Daisy wished that she were gone.
No one would mourn, no one would care.
No one would even notice.
She gasped for air, sobs wracking through her faster and faster.
Control it , she heard May’s voice tell her.
But she couldn’t.
Daisy Johnson was a massive failure.
She let everyone around her down, constantly.
Her achievements were limited, and honestly, mostly illegal.
She was twenty-seven years old, and she had done nothing.
Nothing but feel bad.
Her stomach hurt, her head hurt, and her heart hurt.
Hurt hurt hurt.
That stupid fucking voice in her head wouldn’t shut up.
Nothing could make Daisy feel better.
Nothing filled the unrelenting emptiness except darkness.
A black, bottomless pit.
Of guilt, pain, anger, jealousy, denial, and all that is bad.
She stifled her cries with her sleeve, closing her eyes as she mentally begged something for this nightmare to end.
The nuns had drilled into her that God was omnibenevolent, that he answered all prayers, and that he didn't make mistakes.
But how could that be true?
How could anyone say that her life wasn’t a mistake?
Unless she chose it.
Unless it was her mistake.
But even then, how was the hand she was dealt in any way kind?
She grew up an orphan for fucks sake.
Her parents were not what she hoped.
All the people she had loved were gone.
Jemma was gone.
And why,
Why why why,
Could he not hear her begging?
Her cries for it all to end.
Why wouldn’t he fucking answer her?
Daisy blew out a breath, wiping at her eyes furiously as more tears threatened to spill.
This was stupid.
She was far too big to be crying on the floor about her pathetic life, even if she didn’t feel it.
Daisy Johnson was twenty-seven years old, and she needed to get over it.