April 8,1983-September, 1983
Chandler Bing lay in a crumpled mess on the floor of the boys locker room. It was his fourteenth birthday and he was slowly coming to. He was in eighth grade and how he had survived junior high so far was nothing short of a miracle. Something had happened to his classmates between sixth and seventh grade. They had gotten vicious. Thanks to the kids in his class, he knew what the inside of a trashcan smelled like as some of the larger kids would pick him up and throw him in there on a daily basis. He was often told he would be better off dead and no one would miss him if he took his own life. The guy who seemed to be the leader of the 'terrorize Chandler' campaign was a guy named, Shane. Shane was a big, muscular guy who looked way too old to be in junior high. He was new, had transferred from a school in Queens. From day one, seemed to make his mission to make Chandler Bing's life a living hell. Shane had been filled in on the absurdities of Chandler's family: his dad was a gay cross dresser, his mom an erotic novelist. Chandler was an easy target. He wasn't even called, Chandler by his classmates anymore. No, somehow his nickname had become, 'Fag Her Bang". He had tried to make jokes, tried to play pranks, but nothing was working. He was a target and it didn't matter how much he kept his head down, he was still sought out. He tried to tell someone, but no one was listening. The teachers found it funny, his new junior high principal, Ms. Cunningham, thought he was overreacting and told him to grow a pair and his mother wasn't home. He did find some solace in talking to Lizzie on the phone. Those conversations made him happy. He also kept that friendship bracelet Rachel had given him. He wished Rachel had given him her phone number instead. He doubted she was ever bullied this much. She could probably offer some good advice. The summer between seventh and eighth grade, he hoped he'd see her at camp, but she wasn't there. He faced all this bullying alone and the day of his fourteenth birthday, it became almost deadly.
He had walked into the boys locker room when suddenly he was grabbed by his shirt and slammed up against the lockers. He let out a grunt as he stared at Shane. He grinned.
"Oh, Shane. We gotta stop meeting like this," Chandler tried.
"Are we being funny?" Shane asked.
"No, that's sarcasm. Would you like me to explain the difference?" Chandler asked.
Instead of responding, Shane simply punched Chandler in the face. Chandler cringed but did not cry. He had gotten good at not crying, at just taking it although it surprised him where Shane took it next. He reached inside Chandler's shorts and grabbed a more sensitive area of Chandler's body. His eyes grew big.
"Oh, hello...what are you doing?" Chandler asked.
"Shut up. You know you like this Fagler."
"Not really," Chandler said as he cringed more. Shane was squeezing tighter and tighter and just when Chandler felt like he was going to pass out, Shane threw him to the cement ground and kicked him in the stomach.
"Now it's time to play my favorite game. Beat the clown," Shane said as Chandler opened his eyes slightly and noticed that now Shane had been joined by five of his friends. He closed his eyes again as the blows kept coming, there were was punching, kicking, but Chandler remained still and not crying. He knew if he cried, it would continue. It lasted for what felt like for an eternity when it just stopped and Chandler lay there, drifting in and out of consciousness. He could feel blood in his mouth. This was not how anyone would plan to spend their fourteenth birthday. He needed to get out of there. He needed to move before anyone found him although he wasn't sure how long he had been passed out. He had managed to open his eyes although his lids felt heavy. He slid towards a bench and managed to somehow pull himself up. Every muscle felt sore. He knew he was bleeding but did not care as he slowly limped out of the locker room and was hit with the brightness of the sun. He wasn't sure what time it was or if school was even still in session but he decided he needed to go home.
He continued limping, walking. As he neared the front gate of the school, it dawned on him that he had made it across the school without seeing anyone or running into anyone. He looked down at his watch and through his half closed eyes, he could tell his watch had been broken, stopped at ten thirty in the morning. Right before Chandler reached the front gate, he had to pass the open door of the front office. As he walked past the open door, he slowly turned his head and could see the clock on the wall above the front desk which was empty. His head began hurting more when he notice the time: six thirty. He had been in the locker room for eight hours. Had anyone went looking for him? Did anyone care that he was gone? In that moment, he seemed to get a second wind as he walked out of the school and began running. Every muscle in his body ached, bruises covered his body and he wasn't entirely sure what his face looked like. All he could think was: eight hours. No one knew where he had been for eight hours and it seemed like no one cared.
By the time Chandler reached his house, he could barely breathe. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his key. He opened the door, hoping for a split second someone would be there. There was no one. He walked into the kitchen, wondering if someone from the school had called. He pressed play but the recorded voice came loud and clear. There were no new messages. It felt like he was being kicked again. He had been missing for eight hours. His mom was out of town, his dad was in Vegas and he was alone. He stumbled upstairs and walked into his bathroom where for the first time, he noticed his face. His eyes were puffy and were turning into shades of black. He had a bump on his cheek and there was dried blood everywhere. He slowly took off his clothes and finally looked at every bruise. It was then the tears came. The fell and kept falling. Eight hours. No one cared. Eight hours, he could have died in the boys locker room. Eight hours. Standing alone in his bathroom, he cleaned himself but he was tired. He gave up and instead walked downstairs. He walked towards the club. It was empty. He grabbed a large bottle of Jack Daniels and stumbled back up to his theater, loaded up movies and began watching, drinking until he passed out completely.
Chandler woke late the next day with a pounding headache. The screen was black and the bottle of Jack was half empty. He stumbled out of the theater and into the brightness of the rest of the house. There were people working, cleaning and looking at him. Chandler didn't talk to any of them. Instead he stumbled upstairs and towards the shower, turning it on. He stepped in and let the hot water hit him. He could not go back to school. That was for sure. He had been left, ignored and he was sick of being ignored, sick of being alone. They hated him because of who his parents were. He wanted to go away. He thought of camp again. He was happiest there because no one knew his parents and he wondered if there was a school he could go to where no one would know. Where he could be someone new. He could be Chandler, The Funny One and not Chandler, the son of an erotic novelist and gay cross dresser. He couldn't continue into high school the same way. It would get worse, he knew it would. He would get beaten probably worse and what if he gotten so badly, he didn't wake up at all? No one would look for him?
He got out of the shower and looked at himself in the mirror, the fog covering the mirror. He looked down again towards his penis. There was a bruise from where Shane had grabbed it. He walked out of the bathroom and into his bedroom where he grabbed a sweatshirt and pajama bottoms. He would not be going to school. He left his room and went downstairs to sit in his theater. As he reached the bottom of the staircase, the front door flew open and there was Sophie. She ran to him, grabbed him and pulled him into a hug.
"Baby, what's wrong? What happened? Where have you been? Anita called me and told me to get over here right away. You weren't well," Sophie said. Anita was the housekeeper. It surprised Chandler that Anita had said anything. He never talked to Anita.
"I got beat up," he whispered. "I was in the locker room for eight hours and I don't think anyone went looking for me."
"Chandler."
"I can't go back to that school. It's too much. They don't like me and call me names and they know who my parents are and they are mean about it and...I need go away."
"Oh, sweetie...we'll take you to the doctor."
"No, I don't wanna live here anymore."
"No, no, it gets better. I promise. Suicide is not the answer."
Chandler gave Sophie a look, "suicide? I meant I didn't wanna live in this house. I still wanna live on the planet."
"Oh, okay," Sophie said. "But I need to call your mom."
"She won't care."
"I need to call her. Oh, sweetie...your beautiful eyes. All black and blue."
Chandler nodded as Sophie put her arm around him and led him towards the kitchen. Sophie made him breakfast and then went to call Nora. She called the hotel that Nora was staying at for her book tour and told her it was urgent. When Nora called back, Sophie told her what had happened to Chandler and much to Chandler's absolute shock, Nora flew back.
He had spent the rest of the day holed up in the theater watching comedies, but not laughing. It hurt too much physically to laugh so he continued to watch. It was after midnight when Nora arrived home and Chandler was still watching movies. His mom had actually shown up. When she entered the theater, she ran to Chandler, sitting beside him and hugging him. He wouldn't admit it but it felt nice.
"Baby, I'm so sorry," Nora whispered.
"I turned fourteen yesterday."
"I know."
"I spent it on the floor of the boys locker room."
"I know. How are you feeling?"
"Not good."
"I called the school. You have two months left of eighth grade. I hired you a tutor. You'll finish out the rest of the year from home and-"
"I wanna go to boarding school," Chandler said. He had gotten the idea of boarding school after watching a movie about it. He wanted boarding school.
"What?" Nora asked.
"I wanna go to boarding school."
"Why?"
"Because I hate it here. I'm lonely. I have no friends. I don't wanna go to high school with those people. I wanna go somewhere where they don't know who you or dad are and I can just be me."
"Do I embarrass you that much?"
"Yes. Mom, I want a life. I don't wanna go clubbing and hang out with your friends. I am always around adults. I had friends at camp, but they don't live here. I wanna leave. Please, let me."
"Chandler-"
"You're never home anymore and I barely talk to dad."
"You never wanna speak to me again?"
"No, I didn't say that but I wanna figure out who I am," Chandler said. Nora let out a sigh and gently ran her fingers through his hair, giving him a peck on the head.
"I'm very proud to call you my son, I want you to know that," Nora said.
"Really?"
"I love you so much and so does your dad and I know we are not perfect...but you are never going to find two people that love you as much as we do. Please keep me in your life."
"I will and maybe one day I'll be proud of my crazy life...but I'm not now. I hurt and I'm sorry and...I can't ever go back to that school after what they did."
"What else did they do?" Nora asked.
"I don't wanna talk about it, but know I can never go back there."
"I'll look into private boarding schools."
"Thank you."
Nora remained seated with Chandler, placing her arm around him. He leaned in towards his mom as they continued to watch the movie sitting side by side.
The bruises eventually faded and Chandler did all his school work from home. They only people he spoke two that were his age were his friends from camp, Lizzie, Julie and Nick. He spoke to no one else and did not attend his eighth grade graduation, sticking to his word that he would never go back.
Come September, Chandler packed up his belongings and with Sophie driving him, he headed out to a school about fifteen minutes from his home which was nestled in a quiet woodsy area. Sophie helped him unload his stuff as he was assigned a dorm. Chandler Bing was now beginning high school attending an all boys boarding school. It was his first step, he decided. His first step to separate himself completely from his parents.
