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Daisy Penelope Bloom, a young American woman living in Liverpool, Britain, across from her best friend Melody Price. Mel's father, John Price, has been away on a year long mission. When he returns, he f...
"What happened, Ms Bloom?" Kate questions, leaning forward to prop her elbows up on the metal table. "I can't help you unless you cooperate."
"No one will believe me... I killed them, that's it."
"But that's not it, is it, Ms Bloom? I know that, Melody knows that, even John knows that."
"It doesn't matter!" Daisy grits her teeth, tears brimming her eyes as she stares down at her lap. "I'm a murderer... A monster."
Daisy pats her face dry after splashing water on it, her reflection causing her to wince: Dark circles, pale skin, dull eyes. Everything she used to love about herself, she now hates.
She grabs a pill bottle and pops it open before downing two of them. She throws her head back and swallows them dry, a soft sigh escaping her lips as she rubs her tired eyes.
Its been the same routine over and over and over again for the past month: Daisy wakes up, takes her depression and anxiety meds, goes to therapy, then comes home and video calls Kate Laswell to talk more about the case. She's currently under house arrest and lockdown. No one is allowed to visit her, no one is allowed to call or text her—Not even Melody and John. And it's been pure torture.
The pills do their job, numbing the pain and the fear, but they also numb the love, the happiness, the joy. Everything is just grey. But she'd rather live in grey than face the dark abyss that is her reality. She killed Alex's friends—Self defense, but it doesn't feel like it. Every night she sees their faces, the fear in their eyes, the pain that she caused. She can't escape it, can't move past what she had to do to protect her best friend.
And with more and more time passing without human contact, human interaction besides Kate and her therapist, without John and Melody, she's ever so slowly losing whatever sanity she had left. She's lost in a world of doubt and guilt, the walls closing in like a vice grip with every tick of the clock. The only thing keeping her somewhat sane is the thought that Melody is okay, that she's safe. But the forced silence from her best friend and the man she loves is deafening.
"Okay Daisy, let's pick up where we left off, shall we?" Daisy's therapist, Dr. Allison Martin, smiles as she taps a pen against her clipboard. "You told me the anxiety medication is working, but can you explain to me exactly how it makes you feel?"
"It makes me feel numb." Daisy gives a soft shrug. "I wake up, and everything is loud in my head—Then I take my pills, and it all goes quiet."
"Numb is not living, Daisy." Dr. Martin's voice is gentle, but firm. "You need to allow yourself to feel, to process what happened. Suppressing it won't make the memories go away—It'll just make it harder to heal in the long run."
"Why would I want to feel anything? I'm not allowed to see my best friend, I'm not allowed to talk to her, I'm not even allowed to leave my home unless it's coming here to see you... I'm not living... I'm just surviving."
Dr. Martin nods, her eyes filled with understanding. "I know this is hard for you, Daisy. But it's important to remember that these restrictions are for your own safety. You're not a prisoner—You're being protected while everything is being sorted out. Now, let's talk about John. You mentioned feeling a strong connection to him. What's that like for you?"
"I don't want to talk about him." Daisy's voice is flat, devoid of the usual warmth she reserved for John. "He's old enough to be my father. He's a military man. He's strong, and brave, and fearless, and everything that I don't deserve in a partner..." She trails off, her eyes welling with tears.
"But you do feel something for him, don't you?" Dr. Martin presses gently. "You don't have to hide it from me, Daisy. It's okay to have feelings, even if they're complicated."
"I don't want to... I don't want to love him."
"I believe that's just the guilt talking, Ms Bloom."
"Maybe it is." Daisy chuckles bitterly before pulling her knees up to her chest. "Maybe I feel guilty that his daughter almost died because of me, because my rapist sent his friends to attack me. Maybe I feel like this could've been avoided, had I listened to my instincts earlier that day. Maybe I feel like a shitty person who's just ruined the best thing that's ever happened to her."
Dr. Martin's expression remains calm and understanding. "Guilt is a natural response to trauma, Daisy. But remember, you didn't do anything wrong. You were the victim here."
"I murdered three people, Dr. Martin. I killed them, and in that moment, I felt nothing but relief... Doesn't that make me a monster?"
Dr. Martin's expression remains steadfast. "Self-defense is not murder. You did what you had to do to protect yourself and Melody. It's natural to feel conflicted about taking a life, even in those circumstances. But you need to remember that you're a survivor, Daisy. You're not a monster."
"But I don't want to be a survivor," Daisy whispers, her voice cracking with built up emotion. "I just want to be normal."
"Let's try something, okay? I want you to write two separate letters for both Melody and John. I want you to let all of your emotions out, be completely honest about anything and everything you've ever wanted to say to them."
"And then what?"
"That's up to you, Daisy. Those letters will be yours to control—Whether you burn them, shred them, soak them in water, lock them up, bury them, or keep them to yourself. It's your decision to make."
"My decision... Okay. I'll do it."
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