Run (a Taylor Swift Story)

12- Panic

But then, in the stillness of the room, a sudden sound broke the fragile peace. Taylor’s body jerked, her breath hitched in a sharp gasp, and her muscles tensed, as if she had been startled awake by some unseen force. Her hands gripped the floor beneath her, her fingers curling into tight fists as her eyes snapped open wide. The quiet, steady breathing she had finally settled into had turned into ragged gasps, her chest rising and falling erratically.

Carrie stirred, her eyes flickering open at the sound of Taylor’s distress. She had been pulled from the deep, tired calm of sleep, and now, her heart raced at the sight of Taylor thrashing, her face twisted in a mixture of fear and pain.

“Taylor?” Carrie whispered hoarsely, her voice thick with sleep and concern. She reached for her, her hand instinctively moving toward Taylor’s trembling form.

But Taylor didn’t hear her. Her breath quickened, and her body shook violently as the nightmare took hold. Her eyes were wide and unfocused, her face pale and contorted with terror. Her body tried to recoil, but she was trapped in the small, confining space of the cell, the walls closing in on her.

Carrie’s heart pounded, a sickening ache spreading through her chest. She knew what was happening—knew the signs of panic—but it didn’t make it any easier. She couldn’t just watch as Taylor struggled. She couldn’t just sit by and let her drown in the nightmare she was reliving.

“Taylor! Taylor, it’s me,” Carrie urged, her voice desperate as she moved closer, trying to make herself heard over the ragged sobs that Taylor was unable to control. “You’re safe, Taylor. Please, look at me, please.”

Taylor’s eyes flicked toward her, but they were unfocused, lost in some distant, terrifying place. Her breath came in gasps, uneven and shallow, each one more panicked than the last. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out—just a strangled cry of fear.

Carrie’s heart twisted in agony. She wanted to reach out, to hold her, but the chains still bound her, and she couldn’t get close enough. She could only watch, helpless, as Taylor's panic escalated, her body trembling violently against the cold stone floor.

“Shh, it’s okay,” Carrie said softly, her voice trembling with her own rising panic. “You’re not alone, Taylor. I’m right here. Please, breathe. You need to breathe, okay? Focus on me, focus on my voice.”

But Taylor couldn’t hear her. The words weren’t getting through. Carrie could see it in her eyes, the confusion and terror written there, and it broke her, a deep ache gnawing at her gut.

She needed to do something. Anything.

“Taylor!” Carrie said more urgently, her voice stronger now, her heart pounding in her chest. She had to reach her. “Listen to me, okay? I’m here. You’re not alone. You’re going to be okay. Just... just breathe with me, okay? Slow, deep breaths. Come on, you can do this.”

Carrie took a slow, deliberate breath, willing herself to stay calm. She needed Taylor to follow her lead, needed her to find something to hold onto. She repeated the breathing pattern over and over, hoping that somehow, her voice, her presence, would be enough to pull Taylor back from the brink.

It took a few long moments, the tension in the air so thick it could be cut with a knife, but gradually, Taylor’s breathing slowed. Her gasps became less erratic, and though her body still trembled, the wild panic began to fade, replaced by the exhaustion of her struggle.

Carrie stayed there, her breath matching Taylor’s, though her heart was still racing, still battered from the terror she had witnessed. She reached out, hesitantly brushing her hand over Taylor’s arm, offering her the comfort of touch. Taylor flinched slightly but didn’t pull away this time.

“It’s okay,” Carrie whispered, her voice soft but steady. “You’re safe now. I’ve got you. I won’t let you go.”

The silence in the room stretched long again, but it was different now. The fear hadn’t disappeared, but there was a stillness, a tentative calm that had taken hold. Taylor was still trembling, but she wasn’t fighting anymore. She was just... there, trying to breathe, trying to find her way back.

Carrie stayed close, her hand still resting lightly on Taylor’s arm, just a small anchor, a reminder that she wasn’t alone. It took a while, but eventually, Taylor’s breathing evened out, the panic slowly ebbing away into exhaustion.

Carrie didn’t know how long they stayed that way, the quiet stretching on, but as Taylor’s shuddering breaths finally evened out, and her body stilled, Carrie felt her own exhaustion creep back in. It was a different kind of tiredness now—a weariness from watching Taylor fight and seeing her broken, but also from the relief of knowing she wasn’t truly alone in this dark, suffocating place.

Carrie rested her head back against the stone wall again, closing her eyes. She kept her hand lightly on Taylor, as if holding onto that small thread of connection, of safety. And though sleep seemed just out of reach, Carrie felt herself drifting back into its embrace, the tension in her chest easing for the first time in hours.

For now, at least, they were both safe. And that was enough.