Call It What You Want - a Taylor Swift Story

Part 18

Taylor's POV:

The day passed quickly, I had my security pick up some clothes for Lila and some basics, since she was here to say this time, I at least hoped she was here to stay.

That evening, the house was eerily quiet. Lila sat on the couch, her knees pulled up to her chest, staring blankly at the TV screen, though it wasn't even on. I watched her from the kitchen, my heart heavy with concern. It felt like a dam had broken inside her, and now she was retreating into herself, trapped in a silence that weighed heavily in the air.

"Lila?" I ventured softly, stepping closer. "Do you want to talk about anything?"

She didn't respond, her gaze fixed on a distant point, and I felt a wave of helplessness wash over me. I knew that what she'd experienced was too overwhelming, but I hated seeing her like this—lost and withdrawn.

I took a deep breath and pulled out my phone, dialing my mother's number. The ringing felt like an eternity, each sound echoing my growing anxiety. Finally, she picked up.

"Hello?" My mom, Andrea's voice came through, tired but steady.

"Hi, mom." I said, trying to keep my voice calm. "I just wanted to check in and talk about Lila."

"Of course," she replied, a note of concern creeping into her tone. "Is she okay?"

I hesitated, glancing over at Lila, who still sat in her cocoon of silence. "Not really. She's... not talking. It's like she's closed herself off."

There was a pause on the other end, and I could almost hear the gears turning in mom's mind. "Kids often react differently to trauma Taylor. Lila has been through a lot and It's common for them to withdraw," she explained, her voice measured. "She's processing what's happened, and it might take time for her to open up."

"I just don't want her to feel alone," I confessed, my heart aching. "I want to help her, but I don't know how to reach her when she's like this."

"Sometimes the best thing you can do is just be there for her," mom said, her tone soothing. "Don't push her to talk. Let her come to you when she's ready. She needs to feel safe and secure first."

"Is there anything specific I should do?" I asked, desperately wanting to support Lila in the right way.

"Just give her space," mom suggested. "Let her know you're there for her. Maybe engage her in activities she enjoys, even if it's just quietly being together. It can help her feel more comfortable."

"Okay," I said, feeling slightly reassured. "I'll try that. I just... I hate seeing her like this."

"I understand. It's tough to witness, especially when you care so much. Just remember, healing isn't linear. She will come around in her own time," mom replied, her voice filled with empathy.

"I hope so," I murmured, glancing back at Lila, who had finally turned her head slightly to look at me. The faintest flicker of recognition crossed her face, but it was quickly masked by the shadow of her earlier silence.

"Just hang in there, Taylor," Mom said softly. "You're doing a great job. I'll check in with you again soon, okay?"

"Thanks, mom," I replied, grateful for her understanding. "I appreciate it."

As I hung up, I felt a renewed sense of determination. I wouldn't push Lila, but I could create an environment where she felt safe enough to slowly come out of her shell. I wandered into the living room, and without saying a word, I settled down beside her on the couch.

"Do you want to watch a movie?" I asked gently, trying to engage her in some way.

She looked at me, her expression still clouded, but I could see a flicker of interest in her eyes. "Okay," she finally said, her voice barely above a whisper.