3 (jaylor) perpetual darkness and stolen sequin smiles

chapter fourteen.

Taylor was relieved when she had successfully fooled her mother into thinking that she was okay. It was easy because she could just blame it on the media. About some of what they've been saying, what's been going on with Kanye and all of that drama. She didn't know if her Mom actually believed her, but if she didn't, she kept it to herself. It was different seeing the side of Adam that she'd first seen. The person inside of him that smiled and laughed as if Taylor was the best person in the world. As if he hadn't hit her yesterday morning. As if she could sleep in the same bad as him. As if she could feel his arms wrapped around her and feel safe. As if he could raise a hand to reach something from the shelf and she wouldn't flinch. As if he could rest his hand on her thigh without making her panic. As if he wasn't hitting her, as if they were happy. And it was beginning to get too much. It was beginning to feel as if the darkness wasn't going to end. The pressure to be perfect in front of her Mom, to keep up her guard... it was exhausting. It was taking everything within Taylor not to end it all. Not to plunge that blade deep into her skin so that she wouldn't have to feel anything anymore. Perhaps all of that would just be so much easier than this. Of course, it was, because she'd be dead. Adam couldn't hurt her. He always promised her that he'd always find her, no matter what. And that thought scared her to death. She truly never was going to be free. There was going to be no getting away from him. 

Taylor really could see the person that she'd fallen in love with all those months ago. She could see that smile, the way he'd be so gentle with her when her Mom was around, and she could just... she could convince herself that this was how it was always going to be. Maybe he'd had a change of heart. Maybe he'd realised that he was hurting her. Maybe he'd realised that you didn't treat someone you love like that. Maybe he'd seen that he needed to change. Maybe he'd seen her asleep on the couch beside the piano and realised that she was too terrified to sleep beside him anymore. Perhaps he'd seen that he'd robbed her of everything she had to give. Perhaps he'd seen that she didn't eat anymore because of that comment he'd made about her. The frustrating thing was, that Taylor couldn't help but live in hope that maybe... just maybe... he had changed. Maybe he would love her. She just wanted to be good enough for him, and no matter how bad things got, she couldn't help but try. Even if it was beginning to take its toll on her. Even if she was grinding herself into the ground trying to please him. 

Because that's what happens when you fall in love with the wrong person. When the pain they cause is disguised with love and care. But the pain can't be hidden forever. Eventually, the pain will outweigh love. Eventually, the kisses turn into bullet wounds. Eventually, the touch of their hand goes from a caress to a chokehold. You can't breathe. You can't think. You become numb to the pain of it all because that's a hell of a lot easier than feeling it. When you feel it, you feel everything all at once and it feels like you're drowning. Because really, you are drowning. Taylor was being pulled underwater by someone who was supposed to lift her up. The person she loves is the hand holding her under. Be silent. Can't talk. Be a good girl. You're damaged goods, now. No one wants someone broken. You're just so fucking difficult to love. No one else will love you. No one else will put up with you. Those were the words that rendered her speechless. Those were the words that slammed into her mind and didn't let her rest. 

The reality is... she's falling. Falling down, down, down. And it's not to wonderland. Not to a world of Cheshire cats and painted red roses. She's falling. And he's the one that pushed her. But just before she crashes to the ground, he's there. He loves her, he tells her over and over again. It's for her own good, he says. He pushed her and just watched her fall, so he could be there to catch her because he knows she's tied to him. Taylor is bound to him even though the rope has turned her hands bloody and cold.

And no one will get it. Not a single thing. People will take photos of her, get her to pose and smile, will listen to her voice but they won't see, won't feel the pain she goes through. Hell, Taylor can't even see it anymore. Because that's how abusive relationships work. They pull every single piece of who you are away from you. They turn you into merely a shadow of the person you once were. You lose yourself. Taylor has lost herself. But it's like a drug... the pain. You get addicted to it. You begin to need it more and more. They tell you that you're sorry, but they're not and you can't see that. Taylor can't see that Adam isn't sorry. She can't see that he apologises just to keep her holding onto the hope that it will be the last time he hurts her. He builds her up, just to watch her crumble to the ground again. You believe that if it happened to you, you'd know. You'd leave. You'd tell someone. But you don't. Taylor hasn't, and she always through she'd have the courage to walk away from something like this. Why?
Because maybe having an abusive relationship is better than having nothing at all.

"Taylor," She's roused from her thoughts by her mom, who comes and sits beside her on the couch. Taylor had started doing that - disintegrate away from reality, started to fade away into her head. She'd find a spot, and she'd stare at it. Most often, she would be sitting in that chair by the window, staring at a rooftop in the distance. She wouldn't be here, well... physically she was, but in her head, she was in a small town, in the very middle of winter. Catching her death as she stands outside in nothing but a dress, as snow falls down around her. She's freezing cold, and yet she's never felt more alive. She longs for that freedom and wonders if she'll ever find it. It was the place she'd go to when the pain of life got too much. The place she'd travel to when she was stuck, tangled in those silky sheets with Adam's hands roamed her body. 
"Yes?" She said with a smile. She was getting so good at this. Having a lifetime of smiling for the camera's and performing in front of crowds no matter what was going on had prepared her well for these moments. She was just so good at faking a smile now. So good at remembering to let it reach her eyes, so good at remembering to laugh, to speak with happiness in her voice. Her mom sat beside her, smiling. 
"Let's go and get lunch together. Don't worry, I know that you're not being seen by the public at the moment, so I've got an idea." Taylor didn't want to go anywhere and eat. She hated that, and she hated eating with other people, particularly her mom, because she knew that she'd actually have to eat something. She'd have to pretend as if she ate normally. She didn't have to do that in front of Adam because he never questioned her if she didn't touch a single thing on her plate. But normal people went out for lunch with their Mom. So, she would too. 
"Sounds good." She told her with a smile, a smile that didn't give away how much the thought scared her.

Taylor's mom drove them to a random little cafe on a side street, and Taylor waited in the car. Oh, how she dreaded this moment. She loved being with her mom, but not like this. Not when she was trying to pretend that everything was normal, even though she was far from it. 
She was sitting, listening to the radio when a piece of paper flew into the window. It made Taylor jump, and through the sunlight, she could see words. Scribbles of someone's handwriting. Pulling up her hood and putting on her sunglasses, she checked to make sure that she wouldn't be seen by anyone. She was serious about not wanting anyone to physically see her.
Upon closer inspection, it wasn't even paper. It was a napkin that someone had written on. Taylor could see their handwriting, all swirly and almost as if it was written in cursive. Taylor looked around to see if she could see if it belonged to anyone, but she couldn't see anyone. 

Perhaps that's what made it so special... and Taylor didn't even know it yet.

Taylor got back into the car, clutching the words in her hand as if her life depended on it. These words were important, and she knew that before she'd even read them. It was a poem. Whoever it was, had clearly scribbled this poem on a napkin, and either... dropped it, or intentionally left it behind. And now, it was here. In Taylor's hand, keeping her from ending it all. 
The words were so small because whoever had written it had obviously tried to leave enough room for all their words.