I always said that I would write a fic on Noel as I though that he is one of the underrated characters in casualty, I mean in most fic's including my own he is really only in the background. But I feel that because he is under rated there is so much to say so here is my highly depressing fanfiction! Trigger warning contains suicidal thoughts. I also just realised that there is no option to select Noel as a main character to the story.

Dear the reader of this note,

My name is Noel Garcia. I'm nearly 40 and I live in a 2 bedroom apartment with my best friend McKenzie Chalker or Big Mac. I was born to Laticia and David Garcia on Christmas eve and was called Noel for that very reason. I don't have what you would call a normal relationship with the people around me, but I think that stems from being an only child and having no other children around the house so I didn't recognize what was normal. So from a childhood age I never really got other people, sure I can act the part but that's it, just acting. I need to though because I work at Holby City ED as a receptionist. I am the face of the ED the first one they see when they walk through those doors in pain and seeking medical treatments for the problems that people have inflicted on them, or more commonly they have inflicted on themselves.

I was definitely not well off in my life, and I have lived a pained existence since the moment I turned 18 and my mother was murdered on the way to meet me and my Father at a restaurant to celebrate. It was going to be a great night we were trying out a new place a new Chinese restaurant that served what they had said to be the most amazing egg fried rice, and sweet and sour pork you had ever tasted. But my mother never arrived, we waited for 3 hours in that restaurant waited for her to show up, but she never did. When we got back to the house we found the police waiting, the blue lights flashing waiting to bring our lives crashing around us.

Laticia Garcia had bled out on a garden from a stab wound to her abdomen and it hadn't been quick, she had suffered, or so the the detectives in charge of the case had said. She had bled out on a couples front garden, and had been found 2 hours later by the couple who were just returning home after a dinner at Cafe Rouge. I knew all of this after stupidly asking the couple the truth and after declaring how sorry they were to hear about my mother's death they explained.

They had said they were sorry, like they really understood what it was like to know that your mother had been murdered. They said it like they knew what it felt like to feel someone stab you in the abdomen and leave you to bleed out on a cold lawn in winter, alone. They said it like they cared about me and my father's well being, but I couldn't care about their opinion why should I, they didn't really know me.

They didn't know what she was like, she was the kind of mother that would stay up all night to work through your fears. She was the kind of mother that was always waiting there for you when you got home from school ready to ask you all about your day. She could never be replaced in my mind, she was my role model but no-one knew that. Even at the ED my life was a mystery to them they didn't care that my mother was murdered and they didn't care that my father was losing his mind and I felt alone. They didn't even seem to notice that since the moment I met her I have been in love with the new nurse Amanda Collins.

They don't notice me because I'm not an obvious person. I don't shout from the rooftops about who I am. I don't ask for help because I don't think I deserve it and you know what I have accepted that about myself. I just wish though that for once in my life I wouldn't be seen as the but of the joke. I wish that they could see me as more than that, I wish, I wish...Hell what's the point of wishing. If wishing actually worked then I wouldn't be where I am today, I would be somewhere like Spain, or France, with a good, well paid job and whats more my mother would still be alive.

I think about her now in the moment in which I stood on the bridge leading into Holby contemplating and not for the first time what would happen if I decided to mount the barrier and let my body fall. I wonder whether anyone would miss me if I went? And what people would think when they heard that I had killed myself and when they read this letter? I assume they'd be upset, but only that they missed it. I'm sorry if anybody reading this is genuinely upset I never wanted to cause harm to anyone.

I look at the view again, the sun is setting and it looks like the sunset of an African country and in this moment I wished I was. I have never been but it was somewhere my Mum had said she was going to take me when her and my Dad reached their 40th wedding anniversary. I have been told by my aunt who had lived in Kenya that it was a fantastic place and one where animals roamed freely like the creatures they were. They were wild like I was, once.

My Aunty told me that it is one of the most inspirational places on earth. It is meant to be the inspiration for the great music and the painting that come from there. Admittedly it's one of the only few things they would have to take inspiration from but, still I wished to go, more and more each day. I had planned to go but with every day it had become more difficult to leave somewhere that I knew my mother's spirit still lied.

In this moment my mother was the one person I wanted to be with. I wanted to hear her tell me that no matter my decision everything would be ok. In this moment I decided what I wanted. I wanted my mother. I wanted to feel her sweet smell of lavender perfume. I climbed to the first rung I thought it would be hard, because I'd be fighting my bodies natural response to stay alive but it wasn't it was easy. I then took another step up on the rung I can do it I breathed. This is what it had gotten to I was alone. This was the consequence of being ignored and I was onto the second rung and it felt easy to reach up to another rung. I was finding momentum now and I stepped up a final one, stopping to take a look at the view from here. It was beautiful but the view was no different so I let my left leg reach over and hit the rung. I quickly moved the other one across and my arms locked as I let my body fall as far as I could to avoid falling.

What's the point in life? Why are we even put on this planet? Who would do that to us, who would place us on a planet just to live a miserable life and inevitably die? It's not right but that's my life.. I just can't help thinking where did everything go wrong? At what point in my life did I chose that this was what my life was going to be? To be honest I don't think I consciously did, I mean I wasn't the best at school. I didn't really focus. I didn't really like it, Academia wasn't something I was passionate about I just didn't get it. I didn't really understand what it was all for I thought well, when was I ever going to need algebra? One subject I was interested in was PE in particular I loved to swim, I loved everything to do with it, I'd put my heart and soul into because the best swimmer/ water polo player I could be. But apparently I didn't have the necessary skills or talents to make it. I was a failure. I was a failure in my eyes and the eyes of those around me. You know I wanted kids, I wanted a wife as well I wanted someone to come home to every night who despite who I was and what I did would make me feel special, make me feel like I was worth something.

But what do I have instead? My name is Noel Garcia I'm nearly 40 and I live in a 2 bedroom apartment with my best friend McKenzie Chalker. I am not married and as far as I am aware do not have children. My life is a failure and nobody in my life realises just how awful it is.

Good bye,

Noel Garcia

Sorry if that was depressing but please review if you liked it or if you didn't