Rtc Chatfic-ish (nischa)

Chapter 44

Mischa stared at the window feeling the glass against his knuckle as he finally knocked onto it.

and, not to his surprise, there was no reply.

"noel?" he half-shouted, tapping on the frosted glass yet again.

he peered into the window, trying to balance his gaze in-between the blinds that were sucessfully covering the glass.

noel usually liked his curtains open, he said the light made the room feel more natural, but, contrast to that, they were blocking Mischa's view into the room, being shut.

he made his way to the door.

he was always slightly intimidated by that door. he never knew why. maybe it was just what lay behind it; he never truly knew what to expect when it came to Noel.

he walked in, the floor creaking slightly as his weight shifted onto the oak floorboards.

noels house was simply lay out. it was quite old, paint was chipping off of the wall with exposed brick and even fibreglass everywhere. there were parts where you could see someone tried to cover it but failed. he had a basic layout; single floor, a bathroom, 2 bedrooms, living room and kitchen. The basic necessities for him to survive. the second bedroom which mischa always assumed was for his mother, slowly builded up in rubbish and old looking clothes. it was a catastrophe of ripped, broken parts to whatever was left of the so-called 'house'.

he stood outside of noels room. it had a single red rose painted delicately onto the off-white paint already coating the oak frame.

he took a deep breath.

"noel? i've come to apologise.. i understand how it was wrong of me completely and i should have told you straight away.. but i'm worried about you. you've been acting strange and i just.. i've been worried."

silence.

"noel, you can't ignore me forever. I left you alone for a while because i knew you needed space but still, you can't ignore me."

still, silence.

"noel..?"

mischa opened the door to a scene.

smashed glass.

empty bottles.

red-stained carpet.

bloodied blades.

bloodier body.

what the fuck just happened?

Mischa rushed over, shoving the door in a hurry as he stared in horror at noel.

his mouth was leaking with white capsules, a small, yellow empty capsule held in his opened, frail hand. his face was paler than usual, the blood was mainly on the outside. on his wrists.

A sharp blade was in his left hand, a deep gash in each of his wrists. mischa couldn't tell how deep it was, but he knew for sure was deep enough to damage.

His shaky breaths tried to steady as he fought the war in his lungs, just about getting them to breathe relatively normal.

he picked up his phone, his palms grew sweaty as he dialed 9-1-1.

"this is 911, what's your emergency?"

"my...uh.. my friend has.. fuck.."

"calm down sir, whats your problem?"

"he tried to.. kill himself..."

"whats your name?"

"Mischa..."

"okay mischa, im gonna need to to listen to me very carefully. I've traced the address and an ambulance has been sent, can you explain to me what's happened?"

"he uh.. tried to overdose.. but his wrists are slit too..."

"do you by any chance know what he might have overdosed on?"

"the bottle says.. uh.. fluo.. oxi? fuck im so sorry.."

"Fluoxetine?"

"yeah, that thing... i think..."

"okay, mischa, what is your friends name?"

"noel. his name is noel gruber."

"okay, the ambulance will take approximately 3 minutes. when they get here, do as they say okay?"

"oh.. okay.."

he didn't know what today. he let the anxiety cave over him as he collapsed under the pressure.

"has noel got any pills in his mouth or did he use an injection or other method to overdose?"

"yes.. theres.. so much"

"okay, do you think you can get them out?"

"okay.."

Mischa walked over to him placing a hand gently on Noels cheek, trying to almost swat away the yellow-tinted capsules lingering on the tip of his tongue.

he was fucking dead.

and it was his fault.

"Sir, you need to answer me. are you okay?" The voice on the end of the line asked, concerned.

"yeah.."

"okay, can you take his wrist or place two fingers on the edge of his neck and check for a pulse."

Mischa's hands were shaking, his vision was going blurry whilst cool tears dripped rapidly down his face, a waterfall of sorrow drowning him.

he moved his hand around noels neck rapidly, unable to look at the numb expression on Noels face.

he stopped suddenly, feeling a slight beat under the skin.

"is there a pulse?" the officer on the phone asked.

"yeah..! I-is he gonna.. be..?"

"I can't promise anything Mischa.  The officers should be here no-"

the line went blank as Mischa threw his phone across the room, it smashing as it collided with the brick wall.

_____

the rest of it was a blur.

the last thing mischa remembered was the blue and red flashes as the ambulance carried the limp body away.

noel could be dead.

it was all his fault.