Tied Together with a Smile

Chapter 4

Taylor POV

Looking at the young backup dancer I saw faint red lines that were showing in the small gap between her pants and where her shirt rode up. Shit shit shit. "Charlie....are you hurting yourself?" I asked and as I thought, she shook her head instantly. Quickly but still gently I pulled her shirt up, revealing the ends of marks she'd done to herself. "Can I roll your waistband down?" I asked to make sure I had permission. Despite the defeated look on her face she nodded and so I did, catching sight of the red inflamed skin, covered in gashes. Rubbing my finger over the scars she sucked in a breath. "Okay, so uh, do you clean these? Is this something you do a lot?" The words left my mouth in a jumble. Her voice cracked as she responded "No I don't clean them but yeah.....it is" she managed out before tears cascaded down her face again. As soon as I opened my arms she fell into them, absolutely sobbing. "Oh my god I'm so sorry. You weren't meant to see those. Ever. It's a problem for me to deal with. Pretend you never saw them." She told me as she straightened up. "Absolutely not hun. I'm gonna help you, but I need you to let me. Can you please do that?" I pleaded, watching her finally give in. "I started when my last job ended. That's why I'm always nervous about our costumes. Because if it's like what you wear for 1989...." Charlie trailed. "It'll show your cuts." I finished, tucking a loose strand of blond behind my ear. "What can I do to help?" I questioned. "There's honestly not a lot you can. Keep an eye on me. Check in." The girl responded and I made a mental note of what she said. "Im gonna buy a first aid kit. Start cleaning them." "Why? Tell me the truth." "Because you finding out makes me feel guilty." My heart shattered. I didn't want her feeling guilty but also at least she's cleaning them? We spent the next hour talking before she left to go buy the first aid kit. Her presence was traded for my Mom almost instantly. As I ran my fingers through my hair she came and sat by me, now on the edge of the bed. "She's worse than I thought Mom. She's" I cut myself off. Charlie asked me not to say anything about her anorexia, I'm sure same goes for her harming herself. "Never mind." My Mom nodded. Realistically she probably knew, but I didn't want to say it. Couldn't stand to knowingly betray the dancer's trust, which I knew would be a pain to earn. "I think I know. Taylor? Don't forget about yourself. If helping her is too much for you by yourself, your Dad and I can always try and help too" "Thanks Mom, I'll be okay. And anyway, I'm not sure how keen she'd be on the idea of telling more people." "You never were either till you were in recovery." Momma pointed out and I nodded. As we carried a conversation I was distracted, trying to come up with a plan to help her.

Hey! Shitty day, but I wanted to get another chapter out. Hope you guys like it! Opinions? Suggestions?

-Brooklyn