Are We Out Of The Woods Yet?(A Taylor Swift Adoption Story)

The Aftermath

Taylor's POV:

Amara is sobbing... she's crying in such a way that violent sobs are racking her body as tears come pouring out.. it's the kind of cry where the pain is so deeply embedded, you physically can't control the sobs.

I reach out to her but her beautiful green eyes  widen and then harden, and pulling herself up, she runs up the stairs. I close my eyes in frustration and just let her go. I shouldn't expect her to trust me this early on, but a little recognition would be nice.. As I head to the living room I hear the door bell ring and Adam rushes in, the look on his face apologetic. I nearly lose it and start screaming at him:

T: "Where the heck were you!! Do you know what's happened tonight?!"
A: "Tay I heard... they stopped me in the elevator.. It's ok and it will be ok.. Can I see her?"
T: "she's upstairs!! Terrified!! She won't let me hold her and and...

I burst into tears and then head to the balcony. From my side view I see Adam look up the stairs and then decide against going up.

T: " I'm going to go call my mom. I'll be back in 5 minutes"

and with that I turn on my heel and walk out into the crisp NYC air.

I can hardly control the emotion in my voice as I call my mom:

Taylor: "Hey mommy"

Andrea: "Taylor honey what's wrong?! darling why are you crying and why did you call this late!?"

I explain what's happened tonight to her and she is shocked.There's silence on her end of the phone for probably a minute before she speaks again.

Andrea: "Oh darling.. give her a little time.. She's probably freaked out of her little mind and scared. You said she was six right?

I'm surprised at how she's taking this. I expected a "what the heck are you doing Taylor Alison Swift" lecture, but all she's doing is being supportive. I sigh and realize I'm on my own.

Taylor: "Ya mom, I think you're right... I'm going to go and try to talk to her.. Love you so much

Andrea: " Love you too honey.. Goodnight and Good Luck"

I hang up and make my way back to the apartment, where Adam has made us both coffee. I kiss him quickly and head upstairs to find her. I don't know what I'm expecting.

Amara's POV:
I'm under the big bed again and the tears aren't stopping. I'm not sobbing anymore which is good. I just want to be alone, but the fact that Taylor and I haven't talked yet probably means that she'll be up  shortly.The white fluffy cat is with me and I'm petting her fur. She is so so soft. Suddenly I hear footsteps and Taylor enters the room.

Immediately the cat runs to her side giving away where I am. Taylor sits on the floor and looks at me with pity. We are eye to eye.  She tries to reach for me but I pull away, and she gets this hurt expression on her face again. I don't want to see that expression,  and even though I've literally just met her and shouldn't care, I do. I feel bad for everything I've brought upon her tonight and I start sobbing again. 

This time when she reaches out to me I sit next to her and she wraps me in this gentle side hug. Her arm rests right over a big bruise and this makes me cry harder. She seems to misunderstand my reaction as relief and she gets closer to me until I'm practically on her lap. Looking at me with an expression of pure pity she half smiles:

"Darling everything is going to be alright"

Oh haven't I heard that so many times before.

When we both stop crying she stands up and makes her way to the the closet where she pulls out a large Tupperware type storage box:

"These were my old clothes... let's see if we can find anything for you to sleep in tonight"

She starts rummaging through the box and ends up with a pair of fuzzy pants and a hello kitty tank top.
She looks at me unsure what to do and I quickly grab the clothes and race to the bathroom.
I turn the lights on and put on the pants quickly, before taking off my shirt. As I'm putting the hello kitty shirt on I groan when I realize the bruises are still as dark as they were a week ago. Oh no.

I received them when I tried to safeguard my mom's earrings from some drunk guy who busted the door to the apartment, but they should've healed by now. Choosing to protect my moms earrings was worth it though. The earrings are the last thing I have of my mothers and I will gladly safeguard them with my life if necessary. Shifting my attention back to the mirror, I dismally realize what she gave me was a tank top, meaning my shoulder bruises aren't all covered up.  I quickly sweep my hair over my shoulders, and that seems to do the job in covering the marks. Feeling slightly clean I walk out into the bedroom.

Taylor's POV:
For six years old she is so mature and I really don't know what to think about that. At six I tried, but I wasn't able to change my clothes by myself ; and I'm also shocked at the way she tries to hide her emotions. If I had gone through what she went through tonight I would want to be hugged and held but  she just pushes me away. There has to be a bigger reason for this.

Hearing the door open she emerges from the bathroom looking as cute as ever. When she bends down to pick up Olivia her hair sweeps over her shoulders and I gasp softly when I see black and blue bruises. I don't want to say anything about them now, it's too early.  Sighing, I pull the medical report out from under my pillow, and as she walks into another room I read it.

The CIA left this report here for me and required that I bring her in tomorrow to their office, but I don't want to trouble her with that now. As I read it tears fill my eyes. They've discovered marks and bruises down her entire back and more bruises basically everywhere. I set the report down and go to find her. It is almost 4:00 am.

Amara's POV:
This place is huge! It's like a palace it's that big. I walk to a guest room and open the door. To my utter relief I find exactly what I was looking for. A computer.

I sit down and type Taylor Swift into google. I'm curious to see who she is and why she has this place. The results are astounding. I find out that she's a very famous singer, and that she's dating Adam Wiles? Who's he? Tears stream down my face as I keep reading. This is a publicity stunt, that's why she's keeping me tonight. She's probably alerting the press as I look at this computer.Press would only make this situation worse for me. I need to get out of the apartment. Now's the time to escape. Taylor is in another room meaning there is no one downstairs.

Perfect.

I make my way downstairs silently and suddenly as I open the front door a man appears from the kitchen.
I scream and try to run out the door but he grabs me by the waist and drags me back into the apartment. He starts to scream Taylor's name in this odd accent, and I finally get a look at him and stop struggling.. It's Adam Wiles, Taylor's boyfriend.. Uh oh

Taylor's POV:
I hear Adam calling me and I run down the stairs. I see Amara in his hands and know instantly what must have happened. Breathlessly Adam explains my worst fear:

A: "Taylor she was running out"

I shake my head overcome with tears and take her in my arms.
"Why baby why?"

She says nothing but thankfully stops struggling.

Gently grabbing her hand, I bring her back upstairs and into a guest bedroom. Laying her down I promise to be back and then head downstairs.

I go to the front door and lock it tight before I make my way back upstairs to Amara. It is now 4:30am. This is probably the latest I've ever stayed up.As I get closer to the guest bedroom I hear Amara talking to Dibbles, and I decide to stand by the door and listen:

"Kitty I'm a publicity stunt that's why I'm here tonight. All I am is problematic, and I come with the CIA as baggage. I appreciate her keeping me for the night, but if she doesn't want to ruin her career she'll drop me off at the orphanage right away tomorrow."

I lean against the door thoroughly hurt. What can I do to make her realize that I care about her, and I hate to admit it, but she's partially right.. why do I care about her this much?!  I've met dozens of swifties with troubled backgrounds who are perfectly friendly, but I haven't thought about them in the extent that I'm thinking about this independently stubborn little girl. Taking a deep breath and trying to figure out my mind I enter the room.