28 | in which he kills a girl

It's always been you,

Because no one else makes sense.

.\.|./.

Ryan Falls

| in which he kills a girl |

Pacing all night in my room and anxiously running my hands through my hair turns out to be useless, even when I leave my house and walk around in the street, my eyes on her house. It worries me what he will think if he sees me stalking them, but leaving Crystal with Jeremy just doesn't feel right.

The way he looked at her was enough to tell me he doesn't love her. I don't know whether Crystal is blind or simply ignorant, having seen that deadly fire in his eyes and still taking his hand to let her lead him away.

I run a hand through my hair again, sitting at the edge of the bed, and wondering what it would take for me to go set her free.

I shouldn't care, I know I shouldn't. She's his girlfriend, loves him and adores him. I'm just a mistake to her, a random guy who dropped into her life uninvited and started telling her things she doesn't want to hear. Maybe I'm misjudging everything, and Jeremy actually cares about her. Maybe I'm not the perfect judge of a relationship and how it should be.

Night transforms to day, and the first rays of sunlight peeking in through the cracks in my curtains. Light sneaks across the floor and towards my feet, which are placed squarely on the ground.

My phone twirls between my fingers, as I contemplate whether to call her or not. The thought has been in my head for the past few hours, as I passed the night sleeplessly and waiting for her to give me some indication that she's okay.

I finally call her, only to hear the ringing somewhere close by. Shooting up from my spot on the bed, I see Crystal's phone lying on my bed, buried under the sheets. I reach for it, bending over the pillows that smell so much like her.

Under the pretense of returning her phone, I decide to actually drop by to visit. The only reason I didn't do this earlier was that I didn't want Crystal to be in more trouble with Jeremy. He doesn't seem like the guy who would be okay with his neighbor showing up past midnight to return his girlfriend's phone. If he's anything like I think he is, the man can be a monster when he wants to be.

The sun shines brightly overhead when I hear a car roar to life, and I hurry to the window to see Crystal's car driving past my house. Before it picks up speed though, I only get enough time to see the male figure in the driver's seat.

I'm out of my house before I can stop myself, staring after the car zooming into the distance. Although I didn't see Crystal in the car, I can't be sure.

My feet lead me towards her house, her phone held tightly in my hand. My neck is stiff from the sleepless night and from the anxiety of worrying about her well-being, but my mind is awake and fully alert.

I ring the bell, my hands clammy and breath heavy. If she asks me what I'm doing here, I'll just tell her I came to return her phone. If she's happy with Jeremy, I don't want to cause any drama. No amount of attraction is ruining her relationship.

There's no answer, and my panic only rises.

Maybe she was in the car after all.

I ring again. And again. And again.

Almost frustrated at this point, I get down from the stairs, surveying at the house in the larger context. I see a row of windows along the side, walking over and trying to peek in with my hands on either side of my face.

The house is dark inside, and I try looking in through each of the windows. It's only when I'm at the second last window towards the back of the house that I see a light on. Illuminated in the light is something that makes me frown -- a torn, grey fabric, one with a flowery blue pattern.

What Crystal was wearing yesterday.

The sight makes panic rise in my throat, mostly because I know Crystal doesn't leave her things lying around. She was also quite fond of that top, wearing it on weekends. I had asked her why she liked it, and she had shrugged, telling me it just feels like home.

I continue my stalker-like behavior, peeking in through windows, until I see something that knocks me right off my feet -- metaphorically, of course.

A pool of dark red liquid around what appears to be a bunch of strings. It takes me a few moments of squinting and head-tilting to realize it isn't string, but hair instead.

Crystal!

The realization hits, and I'm running towards the front of the house again. Stopping in front of the door, I bang my fist against it, panic rising like bile in my throat.

"Crystal!" I call through the smooth wooden surface. "Crystal!"

No matter how many times I call, there is no sign of life in the house. My mind whirs at the speed of light, and I decide what to do at the spur of the moment. Bracing myself, I stiffen my shoulder and step back a couple of feet.

The first time my shoulder slams against the door, the door shakes on its hinges but doesn't come off. The second time I charge at the door with full force, though, it nearly rips out, opening and slamming against the inner wall with a loud bang.

I burst into the dark house, letting my eyes adjust to the lack of light. My own heartbeat is the only sound I hear, and my ears perk up as I scan my surroundings. I rush towards the bedroom, coming to an unsteady halt in the doorway as my heart jumps into my throat and nearly chokes me.

Crystal is lying upside-down on the ground between the bed and the only table in the room, her legs twisted at odd angles and arms sprawled out. A pool of what appears to be blood surrounds her head in a deadly halo, her hair matted in the sickly liquid.

Forcing myself to approach her, I fall to my knees beside her limp form, using my trembling hands to turn her onto her back. It only takes me a few moments to notice the gash across her forehead and the blood staining her light skin. There are bruises at several places on her nearly-bare body and face.

My breathing comes heavy, and the scent of blood fills my nostrils. I press my fingers against her jugular, picking up on a faint heartbeat and exhaling a sigh of relief.

I need to get her to the hospital.

Ripping the crumpled sheets off the bed, I wrap them around Crystal to cover her up before jumping to my feet. My mind is running so fast I barely have time to register everything going on. I'm running out of the room, across the living room and onto the street. As cool as my bike might be, I can't possibly take Crystal to the hospital on it. Calling an ambulance could take too long, and I probably won't even be able to wait that long.

Panting and breathless, I notice my neighbor standing next to his car. I'm running up to him without considering anything.

"Hey, I need your car," I tell him, and he spins around to frown at me.

"Excuse me?" he says, his beady eyes scanning my form. His hesitance makes sense since we have never so much as spoken a word to each other since I moved here.

"I need your car," I repeat slowly, my panic rising with every moment I waste. I put my hands into my pockets and take out my own keys. "Take my house and bike keys instead if you --"

"Are you serious?"

"Fuck it, I need your car!" I snap at the man, who throws up his briefcase to shield his face.

His eyes are wide, and he's backing away. I notice the keys in his hands and know that this might be my best shot. If I miss this chance, there's no telling what I'll do.

Desperate and panicked, I do something I never planned on doing after moving out of LA.

I use violence.

"I'm sorry," I whisper to him.

Curling my hand into a fist, I throw it towards the man who is closer to my dad's age than my own. The punch hits his squarely in the face, causing him to stumble backward with a loud yelp and land on his ass. His briefcase lands a couple of feet away from him, and his keys slip out of his fingers. I scoop down and snatch them up before he can even know what I'm doing.

While the man clambers for his phone, I run back into Crystal's house and pick her up in my arms, the sheets still wrapped around her. The way her hand dangles in the air and the sheer amount of blood she's lost is enough to wipe my mind clean, and the only thing on my mind is the need to make sure she's okay.

I lay her in the backseat of the man's car as he struggles to get out of the mud, shouting curses into his phone.

"He's stealing my car and there's this --" he freezes when he catches sight of Crystal's bloodied form before backing away from me. "And he's killed a girl," he yells into the phone.

"Fuck you, man," I say under my breath, jumping into the driver's seat and stuffing the key into the ignition.

The car is already on the road when I see the car's owner after it, waving his arms around and shouting at me to come back.

I don't care if he called the cops and reported that I just robbed him of his car. Even a murder charge doesn't seem so bad in the current circumstances, since I'm too caught up with the girl lying in the backseat, bruised and abused.

Jeremy did that, I know, and the realization makes me hate the man's guts and everything else with it. If I hated him when I knew only the emotional abuse he subjected her to, seeing the signs of such brutal physical and sexual abuse is nothing short of heinous.

"I'll kill you," I mumble, meaning it with all my heart.

I didn't know I could hate someone as much as I hated Grey Martin. Not until today, at least.

.\.|./.

A/N: Sorry for the late update. I wrote two chapters online and turns out they didn't save. Yes, it sucks to write everything and lose it. But I can't really do anything about it now, so I'm sorry if this chapter isn't as great as it should be.

Thank you for reading anyway and for waiting so patiently. I love you all <3