I Need You, Just Like You Need Me.

Rory's POV-

"Are you ready?" John asked me, while he patted my hand.

I stayed silent, and just nodded.

"It will be fine," He reassured me. "I promise." He flung his car door open, and stepped out. He walked around to my side, and opened my door.

"Come on." He said, taking my hand. I slowly slid out of the car. As we walked to the building, John held my hand, keeping me close to him.

We walked into a light pink room, with a desk, and three chairs in front of it. There was an older lady, with brown hair, at the desk. When we stepped towards the desk, she stood up. "Hi there," She smiled. "I'm Dr. Moran, and I'm guessing you are Rory."

I nodded, "Nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you as well, Rory. Why don't you take a seat?"

I sat down across from her, next to John.

She glanced over at John and said, "Its usually easier if we don't have guests in the room."

I squeezed his hand, and spoke up, "No, I need him to stay."

Dr.Moran sighed, "That’s okay... Let's begin. So Rory, how old are you?"

"20."

"Is this your boyfriend?" She asked, smiling at John.

"No," I laughed a little. "He's just my best friend."

"I see, it is good to have support, while going through this process." She said. "Why don't we get started with the harder questions? How long have you been cutting?"

"For almost five years." I replied.

"Do you think about suicide often?"

I nodded.

"Was cutting your attempt to do that?"

"Yes."

"Was that your only form of self-harm?" She asked, while her eyes inspected me.

I thought about what to say, for a second, before I replied. "That was it."

"Are you sure?" She questioned. "You are awfully thin. You know, starvation is a form of self-harm, as well."

I looked down, as my vision began to blur. I didn't know how to reply. I just wished I were at home, curled up in my bed. A tear slipped out, and dripped down my cheek. I felt Johns arm wrap around my body.

I felt ashamed, and afraid to look up. I wasn't scared to tell Dr.Moran, I was scared to have John find out. He will be disappointed in me, and I didn't want to let John down more.

"Could you tell me how you felt?" She asked, changing the subject.

I sniffled, and wiped my tears away. "I wished my heart would just stop beating."

John fell back in his seat, and sighed, rubbing his temples.

I swallowed hard, and kept my eyes glued to the ground, as she continued to ask me more questions.

•••

After an hour of therapy, we were finally on our way home. The car was silent, with an awkward feel. I was even more uncomfortable than I usually was.

All my secrets are coming out.

"Do you want Starbucks, or anything?" John asked.

"No thanks." I muttered.

"Okay." John mumbled. "So you don't eat either?"

I felt like I just got punched in the chest. The way he said that, made me feel sick.

"This is so fucking stupid." John mumbled.

"Just take me home." I commanded.

"I don't get it." John said. "You just don't eat?"

"I don't need to eat, it just makes me feel worse." I said beginning to cry.

I hate crying, I hate it. It makes me feel stupid, and weak. But lately, that's all I've have been doing. Crying. Crying. Crying.

I wiped away my tears, and I lifted my legs up, so my knees were to my chest.

"I'm sorry, that came out harsh." He said. "I'm just really worried about you."

"I know, and I'm sorry." I sniffled.

"It's just I-I don't know how to handle this." He said, gripping the steering wheel tighter.

•••

Johns POV-

We went back to Rory’s house, after her third therapy session. We were sitting in the living room, talking. I have been learning a lot that I didn’t know, about my best friend lately.

“I don’t think I want to go back to therapy.” Rory announced.

“You have to.” I told her.

“Its not changing anything, I still feel the same way. Its stupid.” She said. “There is just nothing I like about myself."

"I hate when you say those things." I said, raising my voice.

"It's the truth.

"Stop it." I snapped.

Rory jumped off the couch, and ran upstairs. She stomped up the stairs, and after a second I heard a door slam. But it was a faint slam, which made me believe it was her bathroom door.

My heart dropped, and I sprinted after her. I ran into her bedroom, finding her bathroom door shut. I attempted to open the door, but it was locked. I began pounding on the door. "Rory," I screamed.” Let me in."

She didn't respond, which caused me to panic more. I put my hand up, feeling on the top of the door, hoping to find a key. But I had no luck. I pushed back my hair, and squeezed my eyes shut. I needed to get in there.

I slammed my fist against the door, again. "Rory, please." I begged. "I'm sorry, please just open the door."

Again, there was no response. I yanked my phone out of my pocket, and called
Garrett.

"What's up, John?" He said.

"Where is the key to Rory’s bathroom?" I frantically asked.

"Why?"

"Just tell me!" I demanded.

"It's in the hall closet, it's hanging on the inside of the door." He said.

I didn't say anything else; I just hung up. I threw my phone on her bed, and took off to the hall closet. I ripped the door open, and grabbed the pink key, which I assumed was hers.

I ran back into her room, and attempted to unlock the door. I turned the key, and it clicked. I pushed the door open, and saw Rory sitting on the edge of the bathtub.

"Rory," I said, rushing over to her. She had her head down, and her arms were folded against her chest.

"Are you okay?" I asked her, placing my hand under her chin, to lift her head up.

Her cheeks were stained with tears. "I'm sorry." She said.

I sat down on the edge, next to her. I peered down at her crossed arms, and sighed. I reached out and touched her arm. She quickly scooted away from me. I slid down, getting close to her, again. I grabbed her arms, and before I even pulled up her sleeves…I knew. There was blood soaking through the sleeves of her shirt.

I jumped up, and grabbed two towels. I wrapped the towels around her wrists tightly, and added pressure. I wanted to speak, but I couldn't. I felt nauseous, and the room was spinning, but I couldn't loose focus on helping Rory.

I grabbed my phone out of my pocket, and propped it on my shoulder, pressing it to my ear. The phone rang twice, before 911 picked up. I quickly explained what was going on, and they said an ambulance would be here soon.

"Rory, talk to me." I told her, trying to keep myself calm.

"I-I'm sorry." She mumbled, looking down.

"No, I'm sorry." I said, still holding the towels in place.

She smiled at me, before her eyes rolled back in her head, and she fell in to my arms.