You'll Be Alright - Taylor Swift

Part 12

"Time to wake up, little survivor," a voice cooed by my ears, making me groan as I dug in deeper into what I was sleeping on. Although, that didn't last long as it started to move, and suddenly, I was upright. Which isn't right because I haven't moved.

"Easy there, sleepyhead," the soft voice persisted as I slowly fluttered my eyes open. In the warmth of the morning light, I found myself cosily cradled in Taylor's arms. The room looked different—fancier, cosier. My sleepy brain took a moment to understand. This wasn't my room with Cory anymore, and it definitely wasn't the floor mattress I used to sleep on.

It was a bit like magic. I wasn't just waking up; I was waking up somewhere new, somewhere with soft blankets and a feeling of safety in Taylor's embrace. The room had pretty things I'd never seen before, like curtains that let in just the right amount of sunshine and pictures on the walls that seemed to tell stories. It's the same room as yesterday and the night before. This wasn't all some dream my brain had made up after the beating.

Or maybe it is. If this is a dream, I don't think I want to wake up. I don't want to go back to Cory.

Taylor smiled down at me, her eyes warm and caring. "Good morning, buddy. Did you have sweet dreams?" She asked, and I simply nodded, not quite ready to form words yet. I like sleeping cuddled up to Taylor. She keeps the bad dreams away.

Instead of dreaming of Cory and everything that he has done, which is what I have dreamt of for as long as I can remember, when Taylor is cuddling me, all my dreams are music. I love music.

The hotel room was bright, with sunlight streaming through the curtains. No rain today, it seems. That's alright. I like the sun too. The only weather I don't like is storms. Thunder is scary. It sounds just like when Cory would throw things at me.

"Alright, it's time for a shower, buddy," Taylor announced, and I felt a twinge of anxiety. Showers weren't my favourite. I preferred baths, where I could huddle in warm water and feel safe. Cory would drag me into the shower if there were too much blood. The water would be so hot everything would burn, and then it would go icy cold, and my toes and fingers would go a funny colour, usually purple or blue. On nights like that, he would take all my blankets and cosy clothes, and I would have to wait three days before I could feel my toes again, and Mummy would sneak my things back.

Taylor kept me in her arms as we headed to the bathroom. She explained how showers worked, but I was interested. The sound of rushing water and the unfamiliarity of the shower made me uneasy.

"Come on, little surviour. It's just water. You love water, don't you, buddy? I'll be right here with you," Taylor reassured, trying to sound calm as she helped me get the brace and sling off before wrapping a plastic bag around my cast sealing it with some tape. Apparently, it can't get wet. She gently guided me into the shower, but as soon as the water hit my skin, panic set in. I couldn't do it. I couldn't handle the water falling on me.

I started to cry, no matter how hard I tried not to. Corry used to love that shoving me in the shower would make me cry. It gave him another reason to be mean. My sobs were loud and desperate, and I hated it. I hate that Cory has made me scared of water, even if it is just in this way. I hate that I am giving Taylor a reason to hit me and tell me what a bad girl I am. I hate that I am being weak. Cory was right; I am just a weak, pathetic, dumb baby.

Taylor, looking concerned, knelt down in front of me. "Hey, it's okay. It's just water. Feel it; it's nice and warm. Not too hot and not too cold," she said, her voice soothing. Not that I could really hear it.

The sound of the rushing water roared in my ears, drowning out any attempt at calm thoughts. Taylor's encouraging words seemed distant, lost in the overwhelming cacophony of the shower. The room felt like it was closing in on me, the steamy air thick and suffocating.