lost and found| Sarah Paulson

1

TW⚠️ abuse

Saturday 6/17/2021
I'm scrolling through Twitter after doing mostly nothing all day. It's 5pm, my dad is still at the bar getting his nightly fix. A notification pops up

@mssarahpaulson: Tune in to my Instagram live at 6pm! See you there! xxx

Suddenly I feel all giddy inside, I love Sarah's lives. She always makes her fans feel so loved and accepted. I set an alarm on my phone for 5:55pm so I can be ready to tune in. I continue mindlessly scrolling until I hear the familiar alarm of my phone telling me it's time to get on Instagram. I lean against my grey upholstered head board and snuggle in under my purple duvet. My Y/C hair is thrown up in a messy bun, out of my face. I'm wearing a Stevie Nicks crop top paired with black Nike shorts I go to Sarah's Instagram page and wait for the live to pop up. After about two minutes of waiting, finally the screen changes and i quickly click on the stream.

Sarah is sitting at her kitchen table, in a cozy corner of her house. She has various beautiful pieces of art in the background behind her. She's wearing a dusty rose oversized sweater and her hair is flawlessly messy. She has a natural look about her, no make up, but still breathtaking. I squeal at the sight of the ethereal beauty lighting up my phone. She begins rambling slightly to Holland in the background waiting for the live to grow before diving in. Once there's 1,500 viewers, Sarah turns her attention back to her phone. She immediately asks how everyone is doing and the comments flood with messages. I admire how caring and giving she is to total strangers. After reading a couple messages saying people are doing okay, she wishes us all the best. Sarah then begins by asking if a couple fans would like to request to go live with her. I scream internally at the idea of my idol noticing me. Sarah begins to accept a few fans, while Holland is in the kitchen, off camera. Sarah asks each lucky fan how they are doing, where they are, are they safe, what are they doing in life. Genuine questions from the heart.

I'm thrust back into reality as I hear the door slam shut. Dad's home. And he's drunk. I throw my airpods in so he won't hear me, I try to stay as quiet as possible. He hates when my presence is made clear. If he would've had his way, I never would've been here. Growing up, he made it very clear that he was forced into this and in doing so made my life a living hell. When mom was alive, she stepped in frequently, trying to be both mom and dad so he didn't have to deal with me. But when he did, it was bad.

I hear my father climbing the stairs, slowly, drunkenly. I made sure my lights were off, only my bedside lamp illuminating my room. I am reminded of what I'm watching when I hear screaming in my ear. Another fan has just gotten the chance of a lifetime to go life with Sarah. I can't shake the thought of how close I am to knowing her yet so so far. I put my feelings aside and press the request button on Instagram. And as I thought I'm not chosen. Another 5 fans have beautiful conversations with Sarah, hanging on her every word.

Then suddenly my phone goes into dual screen mode and says connecting. I cannot believe my eyes. I internally scream so as not to alert my father that I do in fact exist. When suddenly my petite, cute (although I'd never admit that) face is live with Sarah Paulson. I forgot where I am and begin talking, rather loudly but not quite screaming.

Sarah: Hi Sweetie! What's your name?

You: UhHhHhh Hi! My name is Y/N, I would ask yours but I already know. I'm sorry I'm really nervous.

Sarah; Aww honey. No need to be nervous! I'm just a person like you. So tell me about yourself. How old are you? Where are you from? Are you safe?

I hang on her every word, taking in the sweet names she's bestowed upon me. Relishing in the fact that Sarah does in fact know I exist. My breath begins to taper as you hear her utter the words effortlessly, "are you safe?". I hate getting asked that because you I can never answer truthfully. Throughout the conversation my voice has gotten louder, not entirely my fault as I have the headphones in, darkening my surroundings from my consciousness.

You: Right, uhm I am 16 years old. I live in New York, I've been here all my life.

As Sarah goes to interject about her time in New York and how much she adores the city, my father comes barreling through your door and the speed of light. Before I can hang up or even apologize my father grabs me by the throat.

Dad: CAN I NOT GET ANY PEACE AND QUIET IN THIS GOD DAMNDED HOUSE? YOU ARE UP HERE SCREAMING LIKE A LITTLE BITCH.

I'm pinned against the wall, the swift motion in which my father lifted me up knocked your phone so Sarah has a clear view of everything happening, along with 3,000 other people. My feet dangle as I reach for my fathers hands at your throat trying to get some release. I forgot that I still have my airpods in and can hear Sarah whispering to Holland. The thought of Sarah witnessing this makes tears start to flood my eyes.

Dad: Theres the little bitch I know and hate. Cry. Cry like the little bitch you are

My father instantly releases his grip on me letting me crash on the ground. I breathe out knowing his assault isn't over and feel terrible that Sarah is seeing this live. I should've know better. Good things don't happen to me. I don't understand my Sarah hasn't hung up yet. I catch a glimpse of my phone as Sarah is clutching herself crying but staring at me as if willing your father to stop with her eyes. I realize she can hear the noises escaping me as my father delivers his first of many blows to your stomach with his boots. I hear her take a sharp inhale as she begins sobbing quietly watching me be kicked mercilessly.