what a waste, what a waste . / MICAH.

[DAISY NICOLE KING]

daisy was a little bit drunk. which wasn't unusual - in a place like stanfield, alcohol surprisingly wasn't hard to get hold of, and it helped a lot of people around the asylum blot out why exactly they were here. drinking herself into oblivion wasn't the object of daisy's drinking - she wasn't stupid, she knew that if you had no idea what was going on around you, you could end up dead here. and daisy had no intention of ending up dead, at least not any time soon. she drank enough to feel happy, but not enough to lose her memory. the happy equal in the middle. of course, she often missed the point and drank until she was stupid. more stupid than usual. this was one of those times.

she'd managed to get hold of some vodka and had drank most of it in her room, then poured the rest into a bottle of coke - with there being a lot more vodka than coke - and wandered off out of the room with no real idea where she was going. classes were over for the day and the majority of people were eating dinner, but daisy had skipped dinner in favour of the bottle of vodka plus the thousands of sweets she had under her bed. all she had with her was the bottle of coke in her hand and a packet of cigarettes in her pocket, plus the lighter she didn't go anywhere without. not only because she smoked a lot, but also because flicking the small flame on and off kept her obsessive compulsive side distracted for a while if needed.

daisy pushed open the doors that led to the grounds of stanfield, still only vaguely aware of where she was going, only really working out where her feet were taking her when she saw the glint of the water in the outdoor pool. not many people visited the pool. especially not in december. it was supposedly heated but it most definitely wasn't, and freezing cold water outside in the snow - though there was only a small amount of snow on the ground, not even enough for a proper layer, never mind enough for daisy to build a snowman. she had liked swimming before coming to stanfield, back in san francisco. living by the beach meant daisy had learnt to swim at a young age, and had regularly gone there - first, when she was young, with her family, then as she got older, to the parties that were held there. she hadn't swam much in all the time she was at stanfield, there wasn't much opportunity, and this seemed like the ideal time. it was just like riding a bike, wasn't it? you didn't forget how to swim. she doubted it was that deep anyway.

and so she sat down on the snow, put her bottle down next to her and took off her plimsolls and socks, realising for the first time she wasn't wearing a jacket. she shrugged - it'd only get wet anyway. and so with one last giggle to herself, she stood up, toes curled around the edge and jumped into what she hadn't realised was the deeper side of the pool, completely vanishing under the water.