It starts slowly, breaking bits and pieces off as she goes. First her mind explodes. It thrashes and churns with notes of worthlessness, shame, guilt. She knows that the prominent hatred she has for herself is starting to seep through the dams she's built around the poison. But its hard to conceal something from the daylight when the barriers had been cracked.
Her supposed teammates aren't making it any better.
Her withering mind starts to close as silence and the distance kept by almost the entire team becomes almost a ritual. They give silent looks that scream distrust and disrespect. Anger and hurt bubble on the surface of their faces, only to be swept away through dropped gazes and unbreachable masks. It hurts every time, a stab to the heart at their disapproval of her very being and presence.
When she has to speak to anyone, its minimal. She doesn't want to make herself even more a fool by trying too hard or not trying at all. But it's terrible when they argue. They yell what's wrong with you, what's your problem, why don't you vent your problems to someone you really care about. It always leads to what she did to ruin herself. Now she knows that actions speak louder than words and she knows that they aren't easy to forgive. And she didn't mean to do anything, but nothing turned into everything in a flash.
She wants to go. Leave the bus thats killing her slowly but she knows she can't. Cowardice was never one of her traits.
She knows she's getting bad again. She can feel it in her veins. All she hears is the foster parents yelling at her when she and Ward break out into an argument. The silent disapproval from the nuns radiates off of May and Coulson. Fitzsimmons try to be nice but even they have their limits and she knows she blew past them. They (meaning only Simmons) check up on her sometimes, when they really feel like it (meaning once. Only once has Jemma asked how she was doing, and only for the sake of the monthly health check-ups.).
Skye's on her own. Back to where she started.
Sometimes she doesn't feel. This numb darkness overpowers what's left of her mind and drenches it in nothing. After a while she runs out of things to keep herself at a distance from the monster in her head. She can't find the off switch that had been her best friend for over the years, but most recently after the incident.
Skye wakes with a groggy head and a broken heart. She sits up, hand shielding her eyes from the light shines through the small window that perches above her bed, allowing too much light. She realizes that she hates the light. Hates the way that it makes everything illuminate. Hates the fact that everything seems so real.
As the day goes on, Skye realizes that no one seems to care about the dark circles under her eyes. The fact that she only leaves the room to do minimal training because she can't look into his betrayed eyes. Can't face the shame and anger she feels for herself. She always pushes herself harder during the small amounts of training because she thinks it'll be better to hurt herself. Make herself feel pain that hopefully will drown out the other. Physical over emotional. Its been one of her motto's her entire life. They don't notice how little she's been eating. The kitchen, the most commonly used area on the plane, is a definite target for many unwanted awkward occurrences. If Skye can muster the energy, she'll get up in the night to sneak a little something that will never settle. Skye sometimes goes days living off the waterbottles she has stocked inside of her room, knowing that food is essential for life.
But what happens when you don't want to live?
Skye knows that she gets messed up inside. Like someone runs inside and sets a bomb.
tick
tick
tick
it goes.
And she knows, that one day, it will explode.
She's suffocating.
And everyone else is breathing.
Inside the labyrinth walls
There lies a tiny child who sleeps alone
And as the daylight falls
The wind becomes so wild across the stone
- "My Medea" by Vienna Teng