BROKEN THINGS

15

Rahul stared at the razor of the shaving blade sitting across him on the counter. He was already in plenty of pain. The painkillers were keeping some of it away, but it was still hard to breath, his kidneys were writing an entire essay on why you shouldn't get them bruised everytime he used the washroom. But it just wasn't enough to to overcome the pain of his heart trying to rip itself apart.

The conversation had not gone well after he had informed them of his intentions to not press charges.

*Flashback*

"What do you mean you aren't pressing charges, ofcourse you are pressing charges," Anil said shaking his head breaking the stunned silence.

"I'm not," Rahul sighed, "There are enough scandals going around the te-"

"Oh that's your concern?" Sachin exclaimed incredulously, "Not that he would have beaten you to death had Sourav not been there?"

"Let's not overreact here, nobody would have died," Rahul tried to calm him down. He kept the 'probably' to himself. He wasn't sure Greg had been planning to let him live. He had seen this loss of temper multiple times but the rage in the australian had never quite reached such heights.

"Overreact?" Sourav hissed, "You call this a fucking overreaction? When I came, you weren't able to stand on your own! Have you not heard your own list of injuries? Have you lost your mind? Fuck that. What if it had been someone else huh? Would you still have not pressed charges? If it had been Yuvi or Mah-"

"He wouldn't have!" Rahul snapped.

Sourav sneered "Oh yeah? How would you have stopped it if you weren't there-"

"I wouldn't let it happen," Rahul hissed through gritted teeth, he had not beared this much pain for Greg to just reach his team that easily, "I would have killed him if he had dared,".

He breathed out harshly forcing himself to calm down and look at all of them, "I get it okay. I get why you want me to press charges. But let's not forget how much is already going on right now. We just lost the World Cup in three games. There are enough stories of the dressing room shit that has reached the media. And now there's my banged up face too. Cricket in India might just die with a scandal as big as this. This will be an international one what with him being an Australian and everything,".

Anil shook his head angrily, "So you won't press charges because it might be an international scandal? Rahul, if you don't. He will. Against Sourav. That fucker won't pass up a chance like that-"

"He won't" Rahul interrupted determinedly. Greg Chappel had done a very very stupid thing when he had decided not to wait for a better moment to vent his anger out. Rahul was going to shut him up forever. But for that to happen, it was imperative that this remained behind closed doors.

The others stared at him like he had lost his head. Rahul ignored it. They could think what they want. He had long ago fallen in their eyes. There wasn't a way he could fall further.

"Fine. If you don't press charges, I will," Sourav angrily stood up.

"What? No-"

"I will," he pointed to his own bandaged cut on the forehead, "I will say he hit me and you and I retaliated," Sourav gave him a nastily forced smile, "It will be my word against his and you the only witness. Whose side will you take?" his words shook a little with vulnerability before he covered it with anger.

Rahul stared at him horrified. How could Sourav even think that he could choose anyone over h- Oh but he could. Couldn't he? He closed his mouth, face screwing up. He had done that exactly.

"Come on Rahul tell me, who will you choose," Sourav stalked closer his face pressed with anger, "WHO WILL YOU CHOOSE?" he yelled angrily.

None of them were prepared for the way Rahul shrank away, flinching. Not even himself. One second he had been staring at Sourav. The next second his mind was violently flashing back to someone else yelling and then he was pressed against the headboard frozen. The others were also frozen when he shook of his stupid stupor. Sourav looked stricken.

"Jam, I-"

"You," he whisperd interrupting him, hating how his voice was trembling, "I would choose you,".

He blinked away his tears rapidly and got up quickly, ignoring the pain in his chest. It was nothing compared to the pain in his heart. Mahi had not come by with his kitbag yet. Or maybe he had and they hadn't heard in their argument. But Rahul had to go before he did something stupid infront of them.

"Gonna take a shower," he said, clearing his throat and hurrying to the washroom. Someone yelled after him to not get his bandages wet but Rahul wasn't sure who. He didn't care. he had to get away.

*Flashback ends*

That had been a little more than half an hour ago. Rahul had taken a sponge bath. Hoping it would refresh him and keep him from fetching his kit bag himself for his switchblade. There would be questions. Too many questions. But the pain had not ebbed. It just wouldn't. Tears had no effect on him anymore. No amount of crying would ever empty him. Only one thing did.

He reached for the shaving blade, carefully running his finger tip across it making it break his skin the slightest. It was quite sharp. Would work just fine. He was forgoing his shoulders for his thighs this time. Didn't want questions should he have to go for a check up.

There was only a moment of hesitation, a moment of the question, why the hell was he getting so desperate to do this. And then the blade was cutting through his skin, a line of blood not quite as straight as he usually cut. A little deeper than he usually drew. He needed to go, he knew, couldn't take too long lest the others started knocking in worry.

But he couldn't help taking the moment to himself. Watching the blood drip onto the floor. He would have to clean it up soon. But for now the peace of it dripping away from him was all he needed.