Nochelle Oneshots

I'll Miss You

Author's Note:
Sorry for this one guys. I literally almost cried while writing it. This one shot deals with topics such as suicide, so if you don't want to read it, I completely understand. Enjoy if you do read it.

Noah's Perspective:

Richelle died too soon.

She was too young. She had so much left to live for. She shouldn't have left me like that. Left me alone, without her.

She was the best wife that I could've ever asked for. Every time I needed her, she'd be there. It broke my heart when I found out that I wasn't there when she needed me most.

I should've known that something was going on with her. I should've guessed, I should've been there for her, I should've told her not to do it. But I didn't. And now we've both paid the price.

She's gone, and I lost her.

I lost my everything. She was my absolute everything.

It was the worst day of my life when I found out the news.

Flashback

I was heading home after a long, long day at work. The only thing that would make me feel better was Richelle, I was so excited to see her.

When I opened the door and called her name, I heard nothing. I was so confused, I knew that she was home.

"Richelle?" I said, hoping that she would hear me and reveal where she was. "Richelle?" I said again, a little louder.

I went through the rooms of our apartment, calling her name, but again, I got no response. And then I saw it.

Red, trailing underneath the locked bathroom door. It stuck out from the white paint like a sore thumb. I knew right away that it was blood.

"Richelle!" I screamed, banging against the wooden door. "Richelle, you have to let me in!"

Again, I got no response. I was so worried by then. I knew that something had happened to her.

I grabbed the chair from the bedroom, and slammed it against the door, breaking it, but I didn't care. I needed to get to her.

I brushed the slivers of wood off of me, and opened my eyes to a sight that I still wish I never saw.

Richelle was lying on the floor, and it was very clear it wasn't a natural position. Her blonde curls were stuck together in sections, turned at dark shade of crimson. Her eyes were closed and her face was hollow, it was obvious that she'd been like this for a while.

Tears started streaming down my face. They were warm, but I only felt colder. Shivers went down my spine, and I couldn't move at all. Every part of my body felt disconnected from my brain, and my brain felt fuzzy. Like it was trying to convince me it wasn't what I was actually seeing, that I was imagining it. But I knew I wasn't. I knew it was real.

When I finally regained some consensus, I sprinted the short distance and threw myself down beside her.

"Richelle, please. Please, please don't go. Please stay, I need you." I was pleading and crying, but I knew it wasn't going to help.

She was gone.

I looked around the bathroom frantically, trying to find something to explain what happened. And I saw it.

There was a small pocket knife beside her, lying on the floor. The top of it was stained with blood. From the angle that it was placed in, near her, I knew that she had done this to herself. She had killed herself. And I wasn't here to save her.

I looked out of the bathroom window. It was such a dreary day. Rainy, no sun, exactly how I felt right now.

All of a sudden, I heard a solemn cry from the next room. A child's cry. But I didn't move to go and see the child. I should've, instead of staying here with Richelle, but I couldn't leave her.

I heard the padding of little footsteps come near the bathroom. I tried to get up, but I was too late. She saw everything.

"Mama!" she cried, running to Richelle. She nudged her arm with her chubby little hand, and the look on her face was unimaginably shocked when she pulled it away and it was dripping with her mother's blood.

"Daddy! I'm gonna go get help! I'll call the ambulance!"

I gently put my hand on her arm—leaving one hand on Richelle's head—and brought it up to stroke her little cheek. "Honey, you don't need to get help. It's too late."

The next words I said brought more tears down both of our faces. I didn't want to accept it, but I knew that I needed to, because I needed to be there for our daughter. "Lilianne, Mommy's gone. She's in heaven now."

She let out a sob and ran towards Richelle again, burying her face in Richelle's stomach. "No! Mama can't be gone! She's gonna wake up, she's gonna, you'll see..."

"Lily, she's not going to wake up. She's never going to wake up..."

It had taken Lily a couple days to grasp what happened. I had eventually called the ambulance, because I wasn't sure what else to do. They arrived, still with all of their things to help, but she was pronounced dead at the sight.

I had taken Lily to my parent's house while I sorted out all of the details. The apartment had needed to be cleaned, and I had to plan the funeral.

Now I was standing on a platform, with all of the people we knew and loved watching me. I looked to my right, and saw Lily in my mom's arms, still crying. I don't think she's stopped since she saw Richelle.

I hope that she doesn't remember this day forever. She's 3 years old, and she saw her mother dead and bloody in the floor. I don't know how I'll ever explain to her what happened. How her mother killed herself.

I still didn't know why. As I looked to my right, I saw my beautiful wife in a white coffin beside me. Her hair was done up so nicely, she was wearing her favorite black dress, and her favorite shades of eye shadow and lip gloss. She almost looked like she was sleeping. But she wasn't.

I walked over to her, and cupped her soft face in my hand. "I'll miss you," I whispered.