Paperdoll (Haylor)

f o u r

- f o u r -

Taylor stood in front of her mirror.

Her reflection depicted a wounded figure, broken on the outside and shattered on the inside.

After having her last encounter with Scott, he hit the spot right under her eye with one of his fists.

Now the flesh was reddened and soon to turn into a shade of violet.

On her face also lied a trace of dried tears.

It was funny once she thought about it, she no longer minded the hits.

Although Scott thought she cried of physical pain, he was wrong.

She was tired, exhausted of coming home in fear. Having to face him this way almost every night.

Her blue ponds tired of crying.

But she didn't know what else to do, what else was there?

As always the answer was the same;

Nothing.

Nothing was ever worth anything.

No, scratch that.

She was never worth anything.

She flinched as the pain surged through her whilst trying to cover up her aid with concealer.

Yet again she'd let him get the best out of her.

Although, she never did anything wrong for him to be like this to her.

She wondered just what exactly went through his mind when he did those things.

In the end it didn't matter.

Taylor couldn't change Scott, whether she wanted to or not.

Taking a deep breathe she sat on the corner of her bed.

She needed time to think, time to rest her mind to what was out beyond her every single day.

And to cry without Scott listening and humiliating her for it, calling her weak. But after all she was a woman, she could cry all she wanted and it would be justified. His permission was clearly not needed for anything.

She wanted to write in her journal, to scribble down with words what she felt constantly.

What burned the ends of her heart to be tranquiled and soothed after.

To feel her mind clear out and feel that ever so wonderful feeling of rest on the inside.

After she wrote, her heart felt lighter and the feeling to cry was no longer present.

Always having to hide the journal from Scott's proximity made her tired, it was completely absurd that she couldn't keep what meant to her the most out of danger of him destroying it, just like he did to her.

She needed a quiet place where she knew that he wouldn't burst in and shatter her again.

Slowly heading towards the door, she peeked through it silently and listened.

Nothing.

Feeling relief wash overhead, Scott was already asleep, giving her the opportunity to go somewhere.

She wasn't sure where, but somewhere but here.

Carefully, she took her black coat and bag, she hid the journal in one of the inside pockets and headed towards the back door.

Seeing Scott thrown over the couch, made her feel guilty, even if he was cruel, he was still her father. It was unfortunate that after having such a wonder family, things would have to turn out to be like that.