DEH Oneshots/drabbles/shitposts

Dirty (Zoe Murphy)

But that was a momentary occurrence.

Zoe awoke, and everything was back to being real. Her bed beneath her, the roof over her head, the blankets that covered her body was real, making the only thing that wasn't real Zoe's interpretation of that night.

Her mind, desperate to find a constant, replaced the images of Connor being beaten by Todd to her, just to make everything real.

Zoe didn't want it to be real. It was a painful thing to even think about, but her head had no choice but to resurface the memories, making her let out a loud scream.

That prompted her mother to come rushing down the hall to help her, and Zoe found herself confessing everything.

The memory, even today, nauseates her. The look on her father's face when he was told, or the heartbreak on Connor's when he found out. It was a look of pure surprise, followed by pity.

That damn pity.

The uselessness of the emotion is unfathomable. At least in Zoe's eyes it was. What good was it to her if her father felt bad for her. He couldn't do anything about it. It already happened, and Zoe already hated herself for it.

What point is there to feel bad for someone without knowing their pain; without helping them?

Zoe absolutely despised pity.

It didn't matter, though, because no matter how much counseling she was forced into—along with her brother, no matter how much coaxing her boyfriend did to get her to feel better, it didn't matter. It didn't work.

Zoe still felt dirty.

She felt like she couldn't trust herself, and no one else could, either.

Maybe that was why she was doing this.

Maybe it's just because she's stupid.

"Hey, Connor," she knocked on his door, drawing her lip between her teeth in an attempt to silence her nervous whimper.

"Yeah, Zo?" The door opened, revealing a very tired looking Connor Murphy, standing in what seemed like a pile of dirty hoodies and sweatpants. He frowned, seeing her nervous expression.

"Can I... can I talk to you?" She whispered.

Connor pondered for a moment, before stepping aside and letting Zoe in. He ran a hand through his unkempt hair, shutting the door behind him. He could tell something was off with Zoe. That was to be expected, but he wasn't positive what. He pouted. "What's up?"

"Am I... I feel like a criminal, Connor." She looked up at him. "I feel so used that I'm useless. I feel so sick that I'm dying, and I know I sound like a drama queen, but I just... I want your help." Her speech was quick, strung together quickly; something that put Connor off.

"Zoe, babe, the only criminal here is Todd."

"No, no, I know." Zoe met eyes with Connor. "I just... I feel like no matter how hard I try... I'll never be Abe to move on... or get back what he stole from me." She laid back on the bed, half exasperated, half exhausted.

"Zoe, that... we can—we can fix this."

"Connor, can you let me finish?" Zoe looked at him, sucking in a sharp breath. "I'm just wondering, why even try, you know? He told the entire school, and now half of them think I'm some sort of white. I lost myself at that party. The only drink I touched was that orange juice and I had no idea he had... he did that to me. So why reward my ignorance by searching for... searching for something that I ne'er going to get back?" Her voice was spurred by the end.

And that's when the alarm went off in Connor's head, and panic set in. "Zoe, what did you do?" He whispered.

"What's the point in asking, Connor?" Zoe mumbled, staring at the ceiling. Her mind was clouded, her heart beginning to beat rapidly.

Connor shot up, sprinting over to Zoe's side. He watched her blink slowly, laughing at his concerned face. "Last time I saw you like this was when I almost drowned in the river when I was eight."

"Zoe, what the hell did you do?" He grabbed her hand, rubbing circles on the back of it.

"Oh no," she giggled. "He's onto me." She let out an exhausted breath, laugh bc at his concern. "I ate some pills." Her voice was like a playful child's. "What? I'm not gonna walk around and let Todd look at me like I'm some trophy. I want to do this. I want him to know that he did this."

"Zoe, you can't!" Connor screeched, running to his door and shouting something downstairs that Zoe didn't quite catch. He sprinted back, propping her mouth open and shoving his fingers down her throat, getting her to cough up the half-ingested capsules of Connor's own insomnia medicine. "How could you?" His voice cracked.

"I don't want to be a meal, Connor," she mumbled, her head rolling to the side. "I don't want to be looked down upon because I took a glass of orange juice, okay?"

"That doesn't mean you can kill yourself!"

"Oh, you hypocrite!" She hissed with as much intensity as she could. "You have done this how many times? I'm further along than you ever got. Maybe it's just gods way of saying that I should die."

"I regret it, Zoe! This isn't..." Connor took a breath, sitting next to her and laying her head in his lap. "It's never what you're looking for. It's always a choice where you act on a whim, and you regret it the rest of your life."

"Then why did you try again?" She whispered, barely able to meet his eyes.

"Because you were the only one who knew the first time," he sniffled. "I needed help, and I still didn't get it. That's all it was. It was a cry for help." He squeezed her hand, a tear falling onto her cheek. "We're gonna get you help, Zo. You're gonna be just fine."

Zoe swallowed, smiling weakly. "I hope you're right."

—a/n—

Word count: 1617

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This is inspired by a roleplay with my buddy on the Dear Evan Hansen amino so I hope y'all enjoyed it.

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-Emily aka foblvr