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Daria was her father’s daughter, through and through. Daddy had borne the bills, the work, all the things the man of the house was supposed to do. So when he and Mama died, it had all fallen on Daria’s shoulders. She was forced to take on two jobs, a florist during the day and laundering Socs’ clothes at night.
Daria was tired. Not the kind that could be fixed by a solid 8 hours and a lazy morning. No, it was the kind that settled deep in her bones, wearing her down until she didn’t feel whole. Didn’t feel human. It wore her down, day in and day out. She dreamed of her bed through every flower arrangement and grass stain. But the pile of orders and dirty laundry didn’t stop. So Daria didn’t sleep.
Every late night, every hidden sob was made worth it by Pony and Soda’s smiling faces when she came home with no laundry or a big tip. She could keep them children a little longer. They deserved to be young a little longer.
That was true…until Windrixville.
“Pone-c’mon. Please . I made Mama’s biscuit casserole. Wouldja eat some?” Pony’s normally bright and clever grey eyes were dull. “Bubby…you gotta eat. One bite. Just one. Look, it’s all ready for ya.” Daria’s chin trembled as she pushed the loaded spoon toward Pony. “Take the bite, Pone.” She could hear the steel in her voice, but how else could she get him to listen? Soda’s hand landed heavily on her shoulder. Daria followed him to her bedroom. “I dunno how to help ‘im, Pepsi.” Daria sank onto her bed defeatedly. “I’m drownin’.” Her chin trembled traitorously.
“Y’know, you was like that once.” Soda lounged on his stomach beside Daria.
“No, I wasn’t. Me an’ Pone ‘re too different.” Soda barked out a laugh.
“You ‘nd Pone are too similar to see. Remember when Goldie died? You was spaced out for ages.” Daria furrowed her brow. “Mama an’ Daddy used t’ beg ya to eat but you’d just stare into nothin’. You needed time. So does Pony.” Daria nodded. When had her baby Sodapop grown up and gotten so mature?
Slowly, so achingly slowly, Pony came back to himself. Daria watched him come alive, albeit changed. She had to change, too. Some nights, Pony needed space. Others, she sat with him, softly explaining each ingredient while holding him tight. Pony took over buying groceries and making meals. He said it helped his anxiety. It eased Daria’s, too, though she’d never admit it. Pony stuck religiously to his budget, enjoying the challenge of staying under it. The change in Pony sparked a change in Soda. He stepped up and did the laundry or tidied. Soda said Pony being beside him helped him to equalize the timing of chores, something he had always struggled with. Daria would come home to a clean house, folded laundry, and hot food. In return, Pony would find new notebooks and colored pencils. Soda had new clothes or car magazines. Life settled down, which gave Daria time to think.
Pony needs new shoes for next season. Soda was angling for a raise. Johnny had a 6-month physical therapy check-up. Dallas needed a job. Pony was stressed about his theme entering in a contest. Two-bit needed a ride to his AA meeting on Thursday. She needed a new work shirt. The washer needed servicing.
Thoughts like those plagued Daria’s waking moments. She found herself zoning out just like Pony. Soda would watch her for a moment before breaking her out of it.
The impulse snuck up on her. It started one day in the shower. Daria picked up her razor and simply wanted to scrape it across her inner thigh. She dropped the razor in shock. That wasn’t her. Daria gingerly picked it up and finished her shower.
Would it really be so bad? No one would have to know. It could be her little secret. It would feel so good. Just a little scratch. A little release…
That night, Daria unearthed the switchblade she used to carry. With a deep breath, she tremblingly drew it across her inner forearm. It barely made a scratch. Daria gritted her teeth and did it again. And again. Harder. More. No more space on her arm. Inner thigh was next.
When Daria set down her switch, she could breathe a little easier. It would be her little secret. To help with the stress. To make sure she made up for her mistakes. It would only worry her brothers. They didn’t have to know.
Daria didn’t pick up the blade for the next few days. Then a visit from Pony’s social worker went less than desirable. The itch crawled across Daria’s skin as she watched Pony cut chicken for dinner.
“I’m gonna take a rest, little colt. Let me know when dinner is ready?” Daria pressed a soft kiss to Pony’s forehead. He hummed in agreement. Daria’s heart began to race as she neared her bedroom. She quietly shut her door and turned the lock. Daria’s hands shook as she flipped open the blade. The first cut wasn’t deep enough. So Daria did it again. And again. Harder. Deeper. Eventually, Daria was satisfied. She watched the skin on her ribs bloom an angry red. Then the blood started to flow. Panic seized Daria. She rushed to the bathroom and nearly slammed the door shut. Tremblingly, she wet a washcloth and dabbed it across the site. Surely she had restocked the large bandages. Securing the washcloth with her elbow, Daria knelt to open the cabinet under the sink. Perfect, she had. Daria stood, gingerly applying the bandage. It barely covered the full wound, but it’d work well enough.
“Daria? You ok, Supergirl?” Daria stiffened.
“Yes, Two! Just thought my monthly had started. Tricked again-” Two-bit grumbled half-heartedly and walked away. Daria slid down the wall in relief. She was getting sloppy, and that couldn’t happen. Daria took a few steadying breaths before plastering a smile on her face.
The living room was rowdy. Pony watched the chaos from the kitchen, Johnny by his side. Soda, Steve, and Ace were roughhousing in the entryway, Two-bit egging them on. Daria smiled fondly at them as she curled into her father’s armchair. She tucked her blanket around her. Daria closed her eyes and relished in the sounds of her family.
“Here pretty girl. C’mon, don’t ignore me.” Daria’s spine bristled as she walked faster to her car. The man behind her was drunk, obvious in his slurring words and shaky step. Daria was five steps away when the man’s hand grasped her forearm and twisted her to face him. “Don’t ignore me, sweetheart.” Daria’s eyes flicked to his face, then his hands. Bob Sheldon, drunk out of his mind, stared back at her.
“Cherry will want to know where you are.” Bob's eyebrows furrowed.
“What she don’t know won’t hurt her.” Bob yanked Daria closer. “Always wanted to get with a Grease. The queen of the grease sounds good to me. The queen for the king.” Bob’s eyes were wild with a snarl that read the end of her life as she knew it. Daria was frozen. She could protect any of her gang, but couldn’t save herself now. Bob’s face was leaning closer to hers. Daria had resigned herself to die when a fist knocked Bob's head to the side. He let go of Daria’s arm. Daria gasped and shot her head up to see Two-bit gasping.
“What are we waiting for? We gotta go!” Two pulled Daria to her car, gently tugging the keys out of her hand. He ushered her into the passenger seat. Daria didn’t clock the drive home. Nor the walk inside. She blinked and was sitting on her bed with Two-bit pushing a glass of water into her hands. Daria felt the familiar tingle on her arms.
“I-” Words didn’t come to her.
“Hey, it’s ok. He didn’t hurt ya.” Two-bit’s eyes were soft. Sometimes Daria forgot they were the same age. “You rest up, girlie. I’ll handle the gang.” Daria nodded. Two-bit smiled gently at her and closed the door behind him.
Guilt clawed its way into Daria’s heart. How could she have been so stupid? She knew how to fight. Tears fell easily into her glass of water. Daria threw it down, watching the water seep into the rug. The glass shattered into shards. Daria knelt and picked up the biggest piece. She screamed as she hacked at her arm with it. There wasn’t really a main reason, she needed to release. Daria switched arms and was about to start on her thighs when Two-bit came tearing into the room. Daria screamed at him when he pulled the glass away from her.
“Girlie, what are you doing?” Daria couldn’t answer, her chest heaving. She was frozen again. Two-bit made her sit at Mama’s vanity, away from the mirror. He knelt in front of her and slowly, carefully dabbed the blood off of her arms. “I sent the boys to Dairy Queen so they’ll be out for a few hours.” Daria saw how Two’s eyes flickered over her scars. When her arms were clean, Two-bit wrapped them in gauze and bandages. It was silent for several moments.
“I-I can’t stop doing it. It’s like I have to punish myself.” Daria felt tears prick at her eyes and stream down her cheeks. Panic seized her throat. She grabbed Two-bit’s collar and pulled him close. “Please don’t put me in the bin. Please-Two. I can’t be away from Pony an’ Soda again. I can’t.” Two-bit gathered her in his arms before Daria could breathe and begin her plea anew. Daria sobbed. She could hear Two humming and felt him stroking her hair. Daria could feel a little piece of tension fall away. “I’m sorry. I’m awful sorry.” Two-bit crouched to be eye level.
“You got nothing to be sorry for, my girl. You and me, we’ll get through this together, yeah? You don’t got to go through it alone.” And wrapped in Two-bit’s arms, Daria felt a little stronger. Even with the blood soaking through her bandages, she wasn’t alone.