A Place in This World - A Taylor Swift Adoption Story

Where do I Go?

A/N - guys i am so sorry for like no updates, i just graduated, plus ive been so busy trying to get ready for college... once i get my laptop i will be unstoppable!!

update, i got my laptop lol, immediately wrote this. enjoyyy

plus is anyone rlly waiting for this??

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July 10, 2023/Rose

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I still couldn't believe it.

I was lying on my bed now, tired from crying, but still feeling the need to cry more. Taylor and Tree had made their way to my room many times now. I didn't know exactly what to do. How was I supposed to react? I hadn't known her long. Just three months. But we were close.

Very close.

The sheets still smelled like the candle she gave me. Like vanilla and almond, the kind she always said made her feel safe. It was faint now, but it still hung in the air. I didn't want to wash them. Not yet.

Everything in my body felt too heavy. My chest, especially. It was like something sat there, pressing down harder the longer I tried to pretend I was okay.

Eventually, it got quiet. Not the peaceful kind. Just the kind of quiet where the silence rings in your ears. I could hear the ticking of the clock across the room and the soft whirr of the AC. I stared at the ceiling like it might crack open and give me some kind of answer. Or rewind the day. Or fix it. Or just take me out of this version of reality and give me another one.

Around noon, there was a knock. Colin, of course. "Hey," he said, voice soft. "You good?"

I didn't answer right away. I didn't even look up. I shook my head, then shrugged. I don't know why. It felt easier than trying to talk.

"I'm just downstairs," he said, and started to close the door, but didn't shut it all the way. I guess he figured I might change my mind.

I laid there for a while longer. Eventually, the bed started to feel like it was swallowing me whole. My body didn't want to move, but something in my brain told me I should. So I did. I got up, not because I wanted to, but because staying still started to feel worse.

I ended up downstairs without really realizing I was moving.

Colin was sitting at the island in the kitchen, scrolling through his phone. When he saw me, he put it face down and stood up a little straighter. "You want something to eat?" he asked.

I shrugged again. "Sure."

He didn't say anything else. Just nodded and got to work. The kitchen was too clean, too quiet. Every sound felt like it echoed. The fridge opening, the clink of a plate, the stove clicking on.

He made grilled cheese. It smelled like nothing to me.

He set the plate in front of me, along with a glass of orange juice. I picked it up and took a bite because I felt like I was supposed to. I didn't taste anything. Just warmth and texture and nothing else.

We moved to the living room after that. I ended up curled into the corner of the couch, some blanket thrown over me. Colin sat in the chair nearby, TV remote in his hand. He flipped it on, some muted game show flashing bright colors across the screen. I didn't watch it.

Everything about the house felt wrong. Like the walls were too clean, too white, too unaware of what had just happened.

Harley was gone. That fact sat in the back of my throat like a stone. I wanted to scream or hit something or break a window just so something would look broken.

Eventually, Colin turned the TV off. "Want to go outside for a bit?" he asked.

I didn't answer, but I followed him. Not because I wanted to. Just because it felt like something to do.

The backyard looked perfect. Of course it did. Grass cut clean, no weeds, white patio chairs perfectly spaced out. The pool didn't have a single leaf in it. I hated how pretty it was. I hated how normal it all looked.

I sat down on the porch swing and hugged my knees to my chest. Colin leaned against the railing, not saying anything. I think he knew I didn't want to talk.

The sky was a disgusting shade of blue. Not a single cloud. Sun bright enough to sting my eyes. It should've rained today. It should've stormed. Something should've cracked or broken or bent under the weight of this.

I closed my eyes and let the breeze run over my face. It smelled like grass and chlorine and those weird expensive candles Tree always had lit out here. It was the kind of day Harley would've loved. That made it worse.

I thought about the way her laugh sounded when she was trying not to—like she was losing a battle with herself. Or the way her voice got all soft when she read to me, like I was made of glass. The way she looked at me like I was her entire world, even on days when I felt like I was nothing.

Gone. Just like that. Like none of it ever happened.

The worst part was how real it all still felt. Like I could just walk up to her door and she'd open it, sketchbook in one hand, smirking like she knew I missed her. I could almost hear her voice. Could almost feel her fingertips tracing my palm like she always did when we were half-asleep.

And now all of it was just... over.

I didn't cry. I didn't move. I didn't say anything.

I just sat there, trying to breathe.

Because right now, that was all I could do.