Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Professor Layton franchise
Warning: Will have strong depictions of self-harm and suicide attemps.
Found:Two week have passed. Emmy is not doing well. She misses a forgotten appointment with inspector Grosky.
Found
What day is it? She thought to herself.
Not that it matters.
Her apartment had grown cold and bleak. Just like her. She looked down at her bandaged arms through the hair in front of her eyes. Spots of red had grown dark. She didn't bother to change them. It didn't matter anyway.
Her whole body ached. Her whole body screamed.
You should eat. She thought.
She was right. Although she couldn't really keep in the food anymore, it was probably a good thing to try.
She got up from the floor with a heavy heave. Her legs wobbled. Her once strong legs that could take down men twice her size. She walked over to the fridge and opened the door.
There was barely anything left.
She grabbed a half rotten pear and took a bite from the non-spoiled side. Her stomach wretched. She had to use all her strength to keep the bite down.
She wouldn't last like this.
Not that she wanted to.
Over the past few weeks, she tried many things. She tried to cut her throat on the first day. She tried to hang herself the next. She tried to pick up her life and look at the bright side a few days later...but that didn't last. She tried to drown herself in her bathtub a few days ago. And now? She was waiting...waiting for her body to give up.
The pain had helped. The pain from starving herself. The pain from the cuts on her arms and wrists. It all helped. It helped her forget the pain in her heart.
Her memories had turned hazy. The only unfortunate thing was, that she knew exactly which memory she was trying to forget. She didn't though. It was always there. Reminding her of her failure. Of her betrayal. Of her worthlessness.
She threw the leftover pear in the trash bin. It had been overflowing for the past week. She didn't care.
She moved back to the spot in her living room, where she had been sitting the past day and a half. At first, she tried to sleep a lot. She tried to make herself forget by drowning in nothing. It didn't work anymore though. Every time she tried to sleep, she was woken up by terrible nightmares. Nightmares that made her cry out, shiver and throw up.
She sat back down on her spot on the ground. The ground was cold. Cold to her bare legs and feet. She hadn't bothered keeping herself comfortable with warm clothes. A dirty, blood stained t-shirt was fine. She turned her head to the salon table to her right. A knife had been placed on top, waiting for her.
At first she felt an intense high when she cut herself deep enough to make blood spill. The warm, fascinating liquid that dribbled down her arm. It had felt so good.
But now...she only felt regret.
She reached over to the knife handle. She wanted to feel that high one last time. Maybe then she would finally find the courage to just end it and cut deep enough to reach that vital point.
A knock startled her out of her trance.
Someone was knocking on her door.
Who could it be? The professor? Bronev? My neighbour? The police?
Many options raced through her mind. She moved her arm back to her side and placed her hand over her mouth.
She didn't want to make a sound.
Nobody should find her like this.
''Emmy? Are you there?'' A familiar voice.
The appointment.
She had forgotten completely.
''Emmy? We had an appointment yesterday afternoon remember? I thought maybe you had forgotten so I tried to call…'' Grosky yelled.
Emmy glanced over to her phone next to the door. She had cut the wire. She didn't want to be contacted.
She carefully and silently got up from her spot and leaned against the cubbart from her kitchen. Her apartment was small, so she was already close to the door. She doubted if she should say something. Maybe she could lie to him and say she wouldn't be able to come over anymore.
He wouldn't accept that...she knew that. The appointment was made right after Bronev's arrest. He wanted to talk to her about Targent and everything related to Bronev.
How could she have forgotten that...She should have left London.
''Emmy…?'' Grosky tried once more.
She heard him huff. He wasn't the kind of person to give up easily, she knew. Suddenly, without warning, the door handle started turning. Emmy's heart leapt into her throat. She reached over to stop the door as quickly as she could, but was too late. She wasn't as fast as she used to be after all.
''Sorry to barge in like this but I'm a little….'' Grosky started as he entered the room.
His eyes widened in shock. Emmy was standing right in front of him, blood stains covering her arms and shirt. Face pale and hair messily cut. Eyes red and dark from crying.
''Worried…'' He finished.
Emmy was trembling. He had seen her. He knows.
''GET OUT.'' She screamed after finding her voice.
''But…'' Grosky wanted to retaliate.
He couldn't get much in though, since Emmy barged forward and started to push the door, forcing him outside.
Why didn't she lock the door? How could she have been so careless…
Grosky jumped back in the hallway and the door was shut hard in his face. Emmy locked the door and slumped down to the ground. She was breathing hard. She couldn't believe what just happened. Tears streamed down her cheeks.
The inspector had seen her. In this state. She waited and listened. Listened to hear if he had left. Listened for footsteps.
After some silence, she moved up from the door, thinking he had left. She turned around and her eyes landed back on the knife. The ache to grab it had become even stronger.
''Emmy…''
Emmy stopped in her tracks. He hadn't left yet.
''I'll be back in about half an hour. Please...don't do anything rash.''
And with that Grosky's heavy footsteps ran off. He had been listening as well. He had been waiting, trying to find the right course of action. The right thing to say.
Now what...
I, in no way, want to glorify this type of behaviour. As someone who has experienced this train of thought and similar scenarios, I want you to know that there will always be people who care. There will be better days. Remember that.