Paperdoll (Haylor)

o n e

- o n e -

The ink of her black pen slowly marked the words of her pain on the old notebook's yellowed paper.

'I watch your life in pictures like I used to watch you sleep.'

She had no ways to describe what she felt, besides showing it in her writing.

Songs, is what she liked to write, it was the only way she could feel free and open. For a while when she wrote, everything that would go on in life during that day would disappear from her mind, much like an escape would.

After writing down lyrics she felt her chest go light again, her pain would leave her heart along with words onto the notebook. That notebook was something she prized more than her life.

It had been a gift from her mother, whom lately her songs had been about.

When she turned thirteen, on the night of her birthday just before going to bed, her mother had slipped her the dark blue journal, into her hands.

"I want you to keep this," she said.

"Write whatever your heart desires."

She kept silent and watched her intently.

"My Taylor, prize this with all your belongings, it should hold all the things that go on in there."

She pointed her finger towards the center of her chest and smiled.

Biding her a thank you, young Taylor leaned forwards and gave her mother a hug, one that she wouldn't forget.

Not because it came along with a gift, or because it was warm and inviting just like the many she had given before.

But because it would be their last.

The next morning as remembered, her mother, Andrea, had never woken up again. Her heart stopped beating, the cause of a cardiovascular shock.

She'd been woken up by her father's screams, walking into their bedroom he was leaning over her and carried her in his arms. Tears silently fell from her face as her dad grieved and she watched.

Rocking back and forth with Andrea still in his arms, Scott said his last goodbyes, holding her tight and leaving a light kiss on her forehead. The last gesture of love she'd seen her father give since that passing.

From then on her father, the only loving figure left in her life, was wiped away.

His heart seemed to turn into stone, like he never even remembered that he was her father. Fear stepped inside her when she thought about him. He was no longer loving, a complete monster had replaced.

Every night that he came home from work, which is what he let her believe for a while, he would be drunk out of his wits. Tossing curse words at Taylor and damming her over for his wife's death.

There was nothing she could do, besides stand in the corner of the kitchen covering herself from his screams as if she could disappear.

Eventually his searing words became more abusive, more violent. With him coming home inebriated just a few nights became into an everyday thing. Suddenly she found herself now shielding herself not from his words, but also his fists and threatening hands.

Just two nights ago, she heard him shouting for help from outside her window, running outside she'd seen that his jacket was stuck on the car door. He wasn't sober enough to know that all he needed to do was to open it and pull out, so she did it for him. After helping him with his balance she put his arm over her shoulder and helped him walk inside their house. As soon as she let go of him, Scott stumbled forward by the doorway and fell to the ground.

Suddenly he was infuriated and blamed his fall on her, with just enough time to let out a gasp she felt the sting of pain as his hand collided with her cheek.

All she did was run up the staircase and shut herself in her bedroom. Although that night was just something light, she still cried, whether or not he meant to hit her, it still hurt.

The next morning she'd found him blacked out on the couch with a bottle of whiskey in hand. Carefully not to wake him from slumber she sneaked out through the back door and walked to her college like she was forced to.

Scott never liked the idea of her leaving, he wanted her secluded from everything and everyone.

Everyday it had become the regular to sneak out of the house. She would do everything, the grocery shopping, working and maintaining the house. It's like she lived on her own but with a menacing man to correct her mistakes.

Outside of the place she was forced to call home, she had no friends.

With everything she had to do, she was constantly forced to do work.

Sure she would say a few 'hello's' on her way out but never a real friend.

Except a small cat that liked to follow her around. On her way back home she would spy him at the door, and when she left he would trail behind her and stop as soon as she boarded the bus.

Sometimes at night, she'd make sure Scott was fast asleep and opened her bedroom window, called for him and let him inside. It would sometimes be the only thing she would talk to, even if to some people it was insane, that small cat whom she named Stevenson, was her everything.

He was light orange with a few white spots and blue eyes. And coming home to his soft fur and purring was what she looked forward to, someone she could sing her songs to. Even if he didn't understand, sometimes it felt like he did.

After all they both lived alone and unwanted. The perfect match.

As she began to make her bed, she heard the door downstairs slam shut loudly.

He was home.

Quickly she grabbed her notebook and shoved it deep inside her pillow case and turned it over so it wouldn't be visible. If he found out about it, he would take it away or even burn it.

Hurrying over to the lamp, she switched it off and went to bed, covering herself from toes to head.

She shut her eyes tightly and held her breath as she heard him open the door with a loud slam.

Gripping the covers, Taylor heard him yell.

"Asleep aren't we?"

Just the way he slurred his words, she knew that once again he was under the influence

"Such a shame that you aren't awake, I've been needing to get my hands on someone. You're the only one that doesn't complain my lovely."

He hiccuped.

"Look at your tiny figure, so sweet, just like your mother's."

Upon hearing her mother mentioned, she felt her eyes become quickly filled with her tears.

"Too bad the whore died and left us, bet you're just like her. You're fucked already, born a slut and you'll die one too."

Scott walked to the door and slowly shut the door and laughed.

"Goodnight. I'll see you tomorrow."

Once she lightly opened her eyelids to see if he was gone, as soon as she did, her sobs uncontrollably began to escape her lips.

She wondered, just how did she deserve this.

And if there would be anyone to save her, or if she would ever be loved right.

Reaching under her blue pillow case, she carefully opened her notebook onto an old page and began to write as one of her tears stained the writing.

'Nobody ever loves anything that's broken.'

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a/n: hii. thank you guys so much for reading, it would be awesome if you let me know your thoughts about it, if i should continue it or not so comments would be awesome! i really hope you liked it! much love xxx :)