I Will Rescue You | Elizabeth Olsen

39. "i feel trapped in my own body"

October 21st

ELIZABETH's POV

After a wonderful day out with Robbie in the city, it's finally time to get back to my teenager.

Scarlett texted about twenty minutes ago to let me know that she was dropping Daisy back off at the apartment, so Robbie and I are in my rental car, heading back.

Apparently, everything at Scarlett's went smoothly and Daisy was completely fine and had a great time, which is a big relief. I know that she can pull herself together when she needs to and not give anyone any hassle, but I'm impressed that she was able to do so for the entire day.

"You think she's gonna talk to me when we get back?" Robbie asks doubtfully, turning down the radio.

I shrug my shoulders in the drivers seat, keeping my eyes on the road ahead. "Probably not. I know you want to bond with her, Robbie, but she just isn't ready yet. She'll come around eventually. She always does."

Satisfied with my answer, Robbie drops it and we continue our journey back.

Once we get to the apartment complex and park the car in the garage, we start making our way up to the top floor (I chose it since it has the prettiest view of the city) and I get my keys out.

When we're inside, I expect to see Daisy sitting on the couch to watch TV or be on her phone, but she isn't there. Perhaps she's in my room, or maybe the bathroom.

I quickly tell Robbie to stay here before walking over and opening the door into the bedroom.

I walk in to see no other than Daisy in front of the mirror, shoving a needle through her ear.

"What the hell are you doing?!" my shrill voice makes her flinch.

"Jesus, Lizzie!" she exclaims. "Don't do that, I'm piercing my own tragus."

A scoff escapes my mouth. "Yeah. I can see that."

"Then why did you ask?"

There's a long pause as I take in what's happening.

"If you were going to get it done behind my back then I would have much preferred you to steal my credit card and go get it done professionally." I suck in a harsh breath when I see her put in the jewelry.

"Ta da," she sings with jazz hands.

"No, not 'ta da'. You could've really hurt yourself, Daisy."

"Well I already have plenty experience in that."

"Not funny," I scold, the 'mom stance' taking over my body. "If that gets infected, don't come crying about how much it hurts because all you'll get is an 'I told you so'. Understood?"

I don't like being this harsh with her, but I told her that we would think about her getting it pierced, not that she could do it herself and I'm angry that she did it anyway.

Slightly more calm, I leave the room again and walk over to where my husband is making me a much needed cup of tea.

-

October 22nd

About an hour ago, a cab came to pick Robbie up from the apartment to take him to the airport. He only had time to stay for the weekend but Daisy and I wrap up on the twenty-sixth and are traveling to LA on the twenty-seventh so we'll see him again soon.

As much as I haven't wanted him to go, I've been waiting for an opportunity to talk with Daisy about her self harm and I knew that wasn't going to happen with Robbie around. But now that he's gone, I'm going to bring it up, even though she would rather talk about anything but that.

If I'm being completely honest, I don't think I've completely processed it myself, so this talk will probably be benefitting me as well as Daisy.

Anxiously playing with my rings, I walk up to the balcony door and slide it open, where I see her sitting on one of the deck chairs with a cup of coffee in her hands keeping them warm from the growing chill of October in New York.

When she hears the door open, she whips her head around and smiles surprisingly sweetly at me. "Hi, honey," I greet her, lowering myself onto the second deck chair facing the ethereal views.

Judging by the way she brings her knees up to her chest, I'd say Daisy knows where this conversation is heading. Perhaps it's the tone I chose to speak with? Or perhaps my anxiety over this talk that's radiating onto her. She's very intuitive and sensitive to other people's feelings.

"Why do you do it?" I ask bluntly, the gentle breeze blowing the loose strands of hair on my head into my face, turning my nice and neat bun into a messy one.

I'm not expecting her to answer me, and I don't blame her for not wanting to. But I so badly wish that she would.

As I'm waiting for a response, my eyes flicker over to where Daisy is digging her fingernails into the back of her hand, having put her coffee on the small circular table. Instead of intervening physically, I decide to attempt to talk her out of it first.

"Daisy, honey, are you aware that you're currently hurting yourself?"

To the sound of my voice, she slowly pulls her hands apart and wraps her arms around her upper torso to hug herself tightly.

"Let's start with simple questions, okay? One at a time. Do you think you can do that?" I suggest, to which I get a small nod. "Okay, uhh... when was the first time you did it?"

I can tell that she's thinking hard of her answer, almost like she's deciding whether or not to tell the truth.

"Right after... I don't know, um... near the start of our time in Michigan. Just a few days before," she answers seemingly honestly.

That's almost a month ago, and I haven't known about it any longer than five days.

"And what was going through your head when you first decided to do it?"

Now that I'm moving onto the more complex questions, Daisy becomes more hesitant to answer.

Nonetheless, she gives me the details I need.

"That nothing's gonna get better. That no one wants me and that this is the only fix I have, even if it's temporary. This pain, it's... monotonous. I feel trapped in my own body."

Her answer breaks my heart. Why must the universe be so cruel? Daisy could be living her best life right now if it weren't for the people she's encountered in her life.

Even with a person she identifies as safe, she doesn't feel like she can be at peace.

"Oh, Dais-"

"Please," she cuts me off. "Not the pity. Just ask all your questions and you can pity me some other time."

With a sigh, I leave the 'pity' for later and continue with what I need to know.

"Is there any specific triggers? Or does the urge just suddenly appear sometimes?"

"Um..." she ponders, "Depends. Sometimes I'll get a bad thought and I'll just need to do it but other times, it just feels like something I have to go and do. It feels like I can breathe again when I do it."

"So do you feel suffocated?"

A quick shrug of her shoulders answers that question.

"Okay. Just two more things. One: I asked Robbie to buy a load of new first aid products before he came to visit. They're underneath the sink in the bathroom that'll be yours if you don't want to come to me for whatever reason. I have some too and of course I'd prefer for you to come to me for help but I know it's not always as linear as that so this is the backup option. And two: if you have an urge, you don't have to come to me in person, but at least text me. Just communicate that you're having an urge in whatever way you can. Either way, I want you by my side when you have them. Understood?"

"... Understood."

-

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