Darling You've Got Your Demons | Kaylor

eighteen

Trigger warning: mentions of self harm

Song of the chapter: "The Run and Go" tøp

Taylor

As I held Karlie tightly, I couldn't help but worry about what Dr. Marilyn had mentioned earlier. Did Karlie feel pressured or intimidated by me? I certainly didn't mean for that to happen. My heart was thumping loudly, and I could feel that familiar sense of panic setting in. Did I cause all of this? Is this all my fault?

I pulled back slightly. "Karlie?" My voice was tentative.

"Yeah?" Hers was slightly shaky.

"Y-you know you can talk to me, right?"

She nodded, "Yeah. But...I just-I just don't know if I'm ready to tell you. Or how to tell you, I guess."

As I leaned over to grab the tissue box, Meredith quietly padded into the room. She gracefully leapt onto the bed and curled up with her head resting on Karlie's legs. I would've laughed at the adorable candid-ness of the moment if this wasn't such a serious situation. A smile spread across Karlie's face as she ran her fingers along Meredith's spine. Her genuine happiness seemed to be a rare thing, and I was pleased to witness this charming exchange.

I cautiously slid back underneath the blankets, not wanting to disrupt the calm that had accumulated throughout the room. Karlie would speak when she was ready, and all I could do was make sure to listen when she did.

A few minutes passed in silence which consisted of Karlie and I petting Meredith until she got very annoyed and walked away, her tail and head held high in annoyance. "I should get another cat," I murmured under my breath, "Meredith's getting to be a spoiled brat. She needs a sister or brother to keep her attitude in check."

Karlie rolled her eyes, but still said nothing. Her forehead was creased slightly with worry, and she refused to look me in the eye.

"Why are you so scared of talking to me, Kar? You know I won't judge you, right? Well, not unless you like, I don't know, murdered a bunch of kittens or something." I grabbed her hand, intertwining our fingers, and squeezed it lightly to show my support.

She bit her lip, trying to mask a smile, and trained her gaze to the ground. "I didn't murder any kittens, don't worry." Then, turning serious again, she said, "I don't know how to say this." She took a deep breath, and squeezed my hand as if it were a lifeline.

"I self harm."

The words hung in the air. Karlie's hand was still clutching mine; her eyes were squeezed shut. Suddenly, I realized that I still hadn't said anything. I didn't know what to say. Does one ever? I licked my lips, and opened my mouth, hoping that the words I would say were the right ones. "You're so brave."

Karlie opened her eyes and turned to look at me. She looked slightly confused. "How am I brave?"

I shook my head incredulously. "You just told me something that must've been very hard to say out loud. That's brave." Karlie opened her mouth, perhaps to argue, but I continued talking. "You don't realize how brave you are, or how much you've grown. You've had to deal with horrible things, things that I can't even imagine, but you're here, you're alive, and you're having this conversation with me. That's a lot of growth, and a lot of improvement from where you've been."

Karlie's eyes met mine once again. This time, they were slightly misty. "So you don't care?" She asked in a strained voice. I could tell she was holding back tears.

"About what?"

"That I self harm."

I shrugged, "It hurts me to know that you've done that, yes. But it doesn't make me like you less, or not want to be with you, or anything else that you're worried about."

Karlie

"I'm really trying to stop," I said. Everything seemed to flow out of my mouth at once, as if I were a bottle of champagne and someone had just removed the cork. "I really am trying. But it's...it's like an addiction. My therapist would probably say something like," I began speaking in a weird accent, "'You haven't learned to properly cope with your emotions' or some weird shit like that, but it's true, I guess."

Taylor rolled her eyes, "Please don't ever try to do a French accent again."

"What?!" I yelped in surprise, "That was Italian!"

Taylor feigned disbelief. "Well then, you'd better refrain from attempting any accent in the future, then."

The carefree mood dissipated slightly as I sighed and ran my fingers through my hair. Silence followed, until I spoke next. My heartbeat still hadn't returned to a normal pace. "I'm not trying to kill myself."

Taylor's head snapped up to look at me. "Why would I think that?" She asked cautiously.

I shrugged. "That's what mom said. When she saw."

Taylor offered me a small smile, but I could tell it was false. She sighed loudly, "Well, I've met more than a few people who are, unfortunately, going through something similar. And they all seemed to want to," she paused, "to be here; to be alive."

I smiled, blinking back tears. "I do."

Taylor's fingers gently brushed my hair out of my face, lifting it so that I was looking at her. She leaned in partly, and waited for me to close the gap. Our lips met, but I pulled away a few seconds later, choosing to rest my head on Taylor's chest. She gently ran her fingers through my hair, and my eyes closed at the touch. Whenever people played with my hair, it reminded me of simpler days with my parents and sisters. Days when an excursion to the grocery store was an adventure, and not being allowed to have ice cream was a horrible tragedy.

Eventually, when my heart had stopped beating a like I had just sprinted a marathon and my anxiety decided to subside slightly, I decided to address the real issue at hand. "I've never had, like, proper sex. I've fucked people, but that was more to numb my emotional pain than anything else. And, I guess I thought I was more ready than I am."

"Okay."

I sat up in surprise. "Okay? That's it?"

Taylor shrugged. "Why wouldn't it be okay? You don't have to be ready, and I'll wait until you are."

"Why are you so fucking nice?"

"I'm not being nice, I'm pretty sure that that's just normal human decency."

"Well you're the most decent human I've ever met, then," I said, sticking my tongue out at her. She smiled, but there was a sadness in her eyes that I knew was somehow related to me.