GOLD RUSH : a good girl's guide to murder oneshots

ONE CALL AWAY

The air in the room was thick. They both knew something was wrong. It was too quiet, here.

"You're my drug, Pip." He told her somberly, sniffling.

She only wished she could say the same, but
that would be a lie. She had promised no more lies.

The pills in her second drawer down insisted, that that was a lie.

"I know," she said, nodding. "And I love you." Her heart was crumbling under this weight.

Sleeping had gotten harder, again. The weight on her shoulders of knowing what she'd done. Having to live with it. That awful sound of hammer against head.

She had been buying pills for two months, now. From a guy she'd met at a party.

And that secret alone was killing her slowly. Keeping it from Ravi was breaking her. But he couldn't know. He couldn't.

He would be so hurt if he knew.

She had too many secrets, secrets she just couldn't tell him.

He wouldn't trust her anymore. He would break, if he knew. He would love her, but trust would be something unthinkable.

And still, she found herself needing to tell him everything.

"R - Ravi," she took a shaky breath, and he could see it in her eyes. "I..."

"Pip, what's wrong?"

"I need to tell you something. And I'll understand if you're angry with me - you have full - you should be angry."

"I wouldn't be angry at you," he told her, taking her hands and sitting next to her on her bed. "Never,"

"No, you...you don't understand, Ravi. I've -" another deep, shaky breath. "I've been lying...to you." she whispered, starting to cry, not looking at him.

At the hurt in his eyes.

"W - What?"

"I've been taking Xanax again," she whispered, standing and walking to her desk, though not opening it. "I couldn't sleep. The - it helps me. It's the only way I can sleep."

"But..."

"That's not all," she whispered. "Please let me finish."

"O-Okay..."

This was the hardest part. The part where he would break. Crumble to his knees, sob into his palms. Hold her as tight as he could; cradle her in those strong arms, her safety.

"I've -" She paused, crumbling, herself. "I've been, um, harming again. More than - more than just -"

She couldn't. Just from the look on his face, the way his mouth hung open and his eyebrows creased as the tears began to fall, she knew she couldn't do this again.

He hurried to pull her into him, just as she knew he would. His strong arms cradling her against his chest, her own arms folded, hands on either shoulder.

She sobbed into him, and he pet her hair, kissing the brunette locks of it as his hands slipped to her face.

"Why didn't you tell me? Why didn't you - Pip," He winced, pulling away from her but keeping his hold gentle on her wrists. Ravi took a deep breath, nodding. "Okay...okay."

He lead her to her bed and sat her down with him, breathing deep as he reached to open the window. "That's okay, Pip. I understand. I know it's hard to cope with things. But I need to know everything that's been going on in that genius head of yours. Every little thing. I can take it, Pip. Tell me what's wrong." His voice was barely a whisper as his thumb slipped under her sleeve, rubbing over her wrist, just barely skimming her scars.

"Too much is wrong, Ravi," she said, taking deep breaths too. "I can't fucking live with this guilt anymore. It's too much. My head spins at even the mention of murder, o - or duct tape, or even hearing the word bell. A guy in one of my classes is named Jason and every time I see him...all I see is him. It's like he's haunting me." She hissed, head in her hands.

"Oh, Sarge..."

"That's not all. Half the time, it isn't even that. Guys harass me, some for no reason and some because of the podcast. Um, and...I see everybody everywhere. I see Andie in random blondes, and Stanley in journalists. His blood won't fucking leave my hands. It's there, always, forever. Jason Bell is everywhere, too. Any man on the street that has even one similarity is immediately after me. I can't walk alone anymore, it's gotten so bad."

He was silent, urging her on with his desperate eyes.

"And..." A deep breath. "I started harming again about two or three weeks ago. It started small. I told myself small. Keep it small, it won't count in the long run. Every now and then, when I needed to breathe. When I was drowning, it was my life vest. It shouldn't have been. You're my life vest, Ravi."

The corner of his mouth twitched into a soft smile.

"But, um, well, you were out of town - I'm not blaming you,"

"I know."

"Okay. Well, my thoughts got bigger and so did my, um, my cuts. Bigger, deeper; thoughts, cuts. They were all the same. But it wasn't enough. Nothing was enough. Not the Xanax, not the cutting, not the running until breathing hurt. So, um, I started burning..." she whispered, the tears pricking at her eyes again.

"My wrists and my thighs. It hurt so much more, but I couldn't stop. It hurt in the best way it could. Ravi, it resonated with me, somehow. The barn fire, Stanley's blood and his cracking ribs...burning myself, it felt forgiving. Right. I'm sorry."

He was silent. He couldn't argue, because it made sense. He knew what she meant. But still, his heart tore in half, hearing this.

"I'm sorry." She repeated, her voice flatter now, eyes blank. "I shouldn't have told you."

The feeling in her chest was familiar. A grey, unloved feeling. Nothing there. No emotion. The feeling she felt when nobody cared.

In this moment, she felt like Ravi cared more about an ant on the sidewalk than her destructive self.

And he knew that she felt that way, because he saw it in her hazel eyes.

"Hey, no. I know what you're thinking, and you're wrong. You were right to tell me. Thank you for telling me. I want to get you the help you need, but if you're not ready to take that big of a step again, we don't have to. But right now, we need to get rid of the pills and such. We'll make a doctors appointment and get you prescribed medication. You can't keep buying drugs off random guys."

She nodded, solemn as Ravi stood and found the drawer - the one he knew where everything would be.

He dug through, careful to replace everything else, and he fished out the tiny bags of pills, the three blades, and the lighter.

"I'm taking these with me, and I'll throw them out on my way home. I..." he sighed. "I don't trust you to throw them out yourself. Not here, at least. Pip?"

"Yeah, Ravi?"

"I want you to try your hardest to stay sober. I know it's hard, but I really, really want you to call me when you need support. I'm always here. I always will be. One call away, okay?"

"One call away," she agreed, folding herself into him, her head slotted in the crook of his neck. "One call away." She told herself, this time.