You'll Be Alright - Taylor Swift

Part 28

"You didn't see her Mom. You didn't hear her. I wish that son of a bitch were still alive so I could kill him myself," I grumble backstage, Ry asleep on my chest as I finish fixing my hair. "Taylor, you don't mean that," she replies softly, but I scoff. "I do. I mean every word. He hurt her. He tortured her. Physically and mentally. The pain he inflicted is the sort of pain that will never truly go away. He blamed her. Every time he hurt her, he blamed her. He told her she was a bad girl and that he was going to teach her to be good. He broke her," I spit out, being sure to keep my voice level so as not to wake up Ry. Mom and I have been having the exact same conversation for days now, me threatening to kill Corey while Mom tries to talk me down. Each and every time we have this conversation, Ry is asleep in my arms, where I know she is safe.

She hasn't been sleeping well. Actually, that's an understatement. She's barely been sleeping at all. And when she does, it's not the peaceful rest she deserves. Night terrors are waking her up every night, and me, because they're the types of nightmares that have her screaming in her sleep, unable to wake up until they run their course, no matter how tight I hold her while she thrashes or how soothingly I try to sing her to try and bring her peace.

"I can't imagine. I don't want to imagine. But Taylor, he's gone. She's still here. And I know it feels impossible, but you are healing her little by little every day. Focus on that, honey. Focus on her. She isn't broken, Tay. She may seem that way, but I promise you she isn't. She is the strongest person I have ever met, and I've met you. I know it doesn't feel like it, but she is going to get through all of this, and she will come out even stronger in the end. I'm sure of it," Mom tries to calm me down, just like she's been trying to since Ry talked to me, but like always, it's not exactly working.

"How do you know that?" I ask, finishing my hair before pushing the chair around so I can face her, honestly not being able to see a way out of the darkness that seems to be swallowing my precious baby alive. "Because I know her. Because I know you. I know both of you, and I know just how strong you both are. She is strong enough to fight off her demons, and you are strong enough to help her. You will both be okay, Taylor. Each day, it will get a little easier," she reassured me, but I just shrugged. It doesn't feel like it's getting any easier. 

"She can't read, Mom. I've been ignoring it because there is so much going on. But she can't read at all. I'm not even convinced she can read letters by themselves. And I know she went to school. She's mentioned going to school, so they should have taught her, or someone should have taught her. And it seems so trivial. With everything going on, I'm talking about the fact that she can't read. But she can't, Mom," I grumble, finally confessing something I noticed a long time ago.

"I know. We all noticed. And you're right. It does seem weird to focus on that with everything going on. But that might be a good start. Maybe you need to start at the beginning. Focus on the little things until the bigger things seem small enough to tackle," Mom assures me, her voice soft and gentle, like it has been for days.

"I think she's dyslexic. It would explain things. She is an intelligent girl, Taylor. She is so bright, so I doubt it is a lack of intelligence that has caused this. But she can be slow to process things; even when you talk to her, sometimes she needs assurance as if hearing it a few times reassures her. And she forgets things sometimes and finds it hard to follow instructions unless you show her what you mean. And she stutters on words sometimes, as if she's forgotten the word she needs, even though she had used it just a minute ago. And as you said, she can't read, she just stares at the page as if waiting for something to happen, and I don't think I have ever seen her even pick up a pen to write something. It might explain it," she speaks softly, afraid of how I might react, as I just take in her words.

"How did I not see it? How did I not know?" I whisper, my eyes moving to look down at Ry, whose face once again is scrunched up in pain, breaking my heart once again, as I try and fail to calm her by playing with her hair. "Because you have so many other things to think about, Taylor. You are judging a million plates. You spend all your time with her, trying your best to help her. It's easy to see things like that from the outside. You're on the inside, honey," Mom tries to make me feel better, but I just shake my head.