Run (a Taylor Swift Story)

4- Never Alone

As the door slammed shut behind Mick and the men, a heavy silence fell over the room. Carrie turned to Taylor, her heart pounding with the weight of everything that had just happened. The room felt like it was closing in on them, but she couldn’t let that stop her. Not now. Not when Taylor needed her more than ever.

Taylor stood there, her arms wrapped tightly around herself, her eyes distant and unfocused. The slap Mick had delivered still stung on her cheek, and it was obvious from her trembling body that she was fighting to keep herself together.

Carrie stepped toward her gently, placing a hand on her shoulder, offering what little comfort she could. "Hey," she whispered softly, "you’re okay. We’ll get through this."

Taylor met her gaze for a brief moment, her blue eyes filled with fear and uncertainty. "I don’t know how much more I can take, Carrie," she admitted, her voice shaky. "What if they don’t let us out of here? What if—"

Carrie cut her off gently. "No. We’re not thinking that way. We’re going to find a way out, okay? You just need to hang on for a little longer." She squeezed her shoulder, trying to reassure her.

Taylor nodded, but the doubt in her eyes didn’t fade. Carrie could feel the tension radiating off of her, the terror that threatened to break through. She knew Taylor was trying to stay strong, but Carrie could see how badly she was struggling.

"Hey," Carrie said again, more firmly this time, "look at me." She waited until Taylor’s eyes met hers, their gazes locking. "We’re in this together. You’re not alone. Whatever happens, we face it together, okay?"

Taylor nodded again, her lip trembling. "Okay... together," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Carrie smiled softly, trying to push the worry from her own heart. They both needed strength right now, and the best thing she could offer was that—strength for both of them.

A few moments passed in silence as the girls sat on the cold floor, neither of them saying anything further. The room felt like it was pressing in on them, the air thick with the scent of stale carpet and the fear that lingered in the corners. But Carrie refused to let herself give in to the despair. Not now. Not when Taylor needed her.

She stood up slowly, stretching her legs, trying to get some feeling back in her stiff limbs. "We need a plan," she said softly, looking around the room, her eyes scanning every corner. It was sparse—nothing in the room offered much hope. No windows. No clear way out. But they couldn’t just sit here and wait for Mick to come back.

Taylor watched her, a mix of apprehension and admiration in her eyes. "What kind of plan?" she asked weakly.

Carrie thought for a moment. "We wait for the right moment. We play along, keep our heads down, act like we’re just going to follow orders... until we find a chance to escape. We’ve got to be smart about this."

Taylor nodded, though she still looked uncertain. "I just... I don’t know if I can do it. I feel so... powerless."

Carrie crouched down in front of her, taking her hands in her own, giving them a reassuring squeeze. "I know it feels like that right now. But we’re not powerless. We’ve made it this far, haven’t we? We just have to be patient, and when the moment comes, we’ll take it."

Taylor’s eyes softened, and she gave a small nod. "I trust you, Carrie."

Carrie smiled, her heart swelling with the weight of those words. It was all she needed to hear. "We’ll get through this," she said firmly. "Together."

They sat in silence for a while longer, both of them lost in their thoughts, but this time the air between them felt a little less suffocating. Carrie could see that Taylor was starting to relax, just a little, as if her words were beginning to settle in.

Time felt like it moved slower now, each second stretching on endlessly. Carrie stayed close, offering what comfort she could with her presence. She didn’t know what the next day would bring, but she knew one thing for sure: she wasn’t going to let anything happen to Taylor. Not on her watch.