A Love as Hard as This

Chapter 31

Author's Note:
Okay, just wanted to make this clear because there's probably been some confusion: the self harming has nothing to do with Richelle's secret. Sorry ya'll. Also, this chapter has no hints that I know of. The next one will, though.

Trigger Warning:
There's a lot of gory details in this chapter, so if you don't want to read it, you absolutely don't have to.

Richelle's Perspective:

I wanted to hurt myself. I wanted to make myself suffer. As soon as I felt the blade in my skin, I wanted to keep going. I drove it deeper and deeper, until it went through my muscle, and stopped at the bone of my wrist. But it wasn't enough pain.

I wanted to feel more. I twisted the blade and gasped, my breath hitching. I felt an tear arise in my eye, but willed it not to come down.

Eventually, after holding it there for a moment, I pulled it out and cried with agony. This wasn't a pain that I'd ever experienced, it was so much worse.

Then I started to get dizzy. I started to lose feeling in my body, like it was disconnecting from my brain. But I didn't see black, I saw light.

I was so close to the light already, I just wanted to be rid of the dark.

I heard someone scream as I collapsed onto the ground, unconscious.

——————

Emily's Perspective:

I'd heard about what had happened; the news had spread like wildfire throughout the studio. Even though I never really did this, I felt like Richelle needed someone right now. No one was taking her side, everyone was just saying that Noah did the right thing and that she wasn't worth it. I disagreed, which was why I was standing outside her house's door.

"Richelle?" I said loudly, knocking. "Richelle, you can open up, it's just Emily."

I hoped that by talking to her, I could maybe give her some advice. I'd never been through a situation exactly like this, but I had been through the whole thing with Michelle, Eldon, and Hunter, and witnessed the James, Riley, and Alfie thing. I had a lot of experience in these areas, so I wanted to help her in any way that I could.

Even though she wasn't answering the door, I had a feeling that she was home. "Richelle!" I called again, and then tried to door. To my immense surprise, it was unlocked. Why didn't she lock her door?

I was slightly confused, but went in anyway. Stepping inside, I was immediately unnerved by the iron and salty smell...almost of...blood.

Running through the house, I opened every door, searching for the cause of the smell. Finally, I got to what I assumed to be her bathroom, and screamed at the sight I saw.

She was lying on the floor, collapsed in a very, very unnatural position, with her legs twisted underneath her. Her wrist....I didn't even want to think about. It looked as though she had been mauled by some sort of animal, but I knew that she had done it to herself.

From the way she was angled, I got a perfect view of it. You could see the bone through her muscles, and it had a crack in it. She'd pushed hard, not stopping until she'd damaged the nerves no doubt.

I could barely breathe. Why would she have done this to herself.

Searching for what she had used, I found a razor with its protective covering taken off, and empty from the blades as well. So that was what she'd used. It hurt me to imagine. Using a small blade like that; she would've had to push it so deep so many times to draw that much blood and do that much damage.

Then I remembered that I was wasting time. She could be dying at this rate, she was already covered in scarlet liquid. I crouched down beside her and whispered, "You're going to be okay. I'm going to get help."

After that, I wiped the tears that had quickly arrived off of my face and dialed the emergency number. Within seconds, someone responded, and I told them where to come, what had happened, and that I needed an ambulance as fast as I possibly could.

The paramedics came and took her on a stretcher. "It's going to be okay," I kept whispering to myself and her. "It's going to be okay."

When we were in the ambulance, the paramedic nearest me asked me if there was anyone that I could call for her. I really didn't want to call him, but the only person I could think of... was Noah.

——————

Noah's Perspective:

I was standing on my driveway, having just gotten out of my car, when I got a phone call from Emily. I was shocked. Emily never called any of the dancers, she deemed it unprofessional. I answered, unsure what to expect.

I heard her sobbing on the other line. "Noah, you—you need to get down to the hospital right away. Richelle, she—she tried to—she's in critical condition. I didn't know who else to call, but you need to come and—and be there for her. Please."

I heard the shatter of the glass as my phone dropped onto the concrete, but I didn't care. I got out of the car and sped to the hospital.