Things had been bad, but that's when they started getting ugly. Monica and Rachel called the next day, after all, it was extremely unusual for Phoebe to leave a party early. She had reassured the girls that she had just been really tired, that she was fine, and she sounded so calm and upbeat that they instantly bought it. It was Phoebe after all, when was she ever unhappy. However, the truth was everything hurt, and not only physically. Memories of her past replayed in her mind over and over again, and her pained body was a constant reminder of the night before. She didn't leave her apartment in days, with the excuse that she had simply fallen ill, and honestly she really was sick. Phoebe was sick of thinking, of being hurt constantly, of never being able to escape her past, to move on. Phoebe was sick of life.

Once again, she began acting, putting on daily performances for those close to her. No one had any idea how much pain she was in and she figured that faking it would help her move on, after all, it had worked in the past. But forcing laughs and cracking jokes didn't do her any good, and she always found herself having spontaneous breakdowns at random times of the day. However, she was always careful to not let anybody see her. She'd go in the bathroom, lock the door and cry until she ran out of tears. Then she'd wash her face, put some makeup on and walk back out as if nothing had happened. She'd curse under her breath every time she found herself thinking about it all during a meal with her friends, during a movie night or even in the middle of one of the gang's meaningless arguments. Her heart was stained, bruised and broken and she constantly pondered whether she should just end it all.

Then her grandmother had died, and despite having made a small deal out of it in front of her friends, the truth was it had hugely upset her. The old lady had taken her in and cared for her like a mother would have done, and losing her was painful. What happened angered Phoebe, who was tired of being in a constant state of sadness. But ironically, in her grandma's funeral, she finally found a reason to live, a tiny ray of hope. She had met her father.

Phoebe had been skeptical about talking to him at first. After all, this was the man who had run out on her family. He had abandoned them when they needed each other the most, and he was partly the reason why she didn't have a mother anymore. But despite the anger she felt towards him, Frank was still her dad and she needed parental love now more than ever. Maybe getting her family back was her chance at happiness.

They met up and chatted through coffee, and at the end of the day, Frank promised he'd make up for all the lost time. They exchanged phone numbers, and Phoebe went home with the hope that she'd have her dad again, finally someone who could love and protect her. But days went by and he never called. She had rang him countless times but it was no use so Phoebe convinced herself that maybe he was just busy, until once day she received a text message.

"I'm so sorry, but I can't do this. Please don't try to contact me again."

And that was it for her. Just like that, Phoebe decided she was worthless. Not even her own father wanted to be part of her life, and it had to be her fault. Was she really that hard to deal with? That explained why she had had no serious relationships so far, because every single guy she met eventually got bored of her and went off to meet someone better, someone prettier and smarter. She thought of David and how he had gotten married the past fall. He had gone to Minsk and he had forgotten about her, about all the promises he had made. But how could she blame him, all men ever saw her like was a toy and it was her fault. It was her fault she had been raped twice, it was her fault her baby died, it was her fault every person she cared about had left her. It was all her fault because how could others possibly love her when she didn't even love herself.

So she had spent the next few weeks thinking about her mom, about what she did, how she had freed herself away from the pain. Phoebe wanted to live, she really did, but if living meant feeling that way forever then she couldn't do it. She had fought for so long and she was so tired. Her suffering had began since a very young age and it never seemed to go away. She knew she would feel this pain as long as she lived, she knew the memories would be there as long as she kept breathing. Phoebe just wanted to be at peace, it was the least she deserved.

And now here she was, standing on the edge of the rooftop, desperately wanting to follow the leaves as they were carried away by the wind. She knew she was being selfish, especially because she would jump to her death precisely in the building where four of her closest friends lived. She knew she would cause harm to those around her, but she couldn't keep living for the sake of others, she was in too much pain. And there, inches away from death, Phoebe finally understood why her mother had done it, and she forgave her.

She thought of Ursula, the one person she knew for sure would not shed a single tear over her death. Phoebe had always wished they had made up. As twins, they could have made some amazing memories together. But tonight, ironically, she was consoled over the fact that her sister didn't love her, because that meant she'd be hurting one less person. Her mind then turned to Frank Jr. They had met each other not that long ago, but Phoebe had learned to care for him as if she had known her little brother since the moment he was born. The news would likely upset him, but she knew that with Alice and the triplets he would forget about her in the blink of an eye. And her birth mom, Phoebe, who she hadn't spoken to since the babies were born, would certainly move on immediately. Sure, she had given birth to her, and they had managed to bond for quite some time, but there hadn't been a special connection between the two, and Phoebe knew that.

Finally, the blonde one thought of her friends. The truth was if it weren't for them, she'd given up a long time ago. They had become her family, and she loved them more than words could describe. She thought of Joey's kind heart, Rachel's free willed spirit, Chandler's lovable wit, Monica's passionate soul and Ross's caring personality. They were all unique and special in their own way, and, unlike her, her friends would go far. They all had a bright and shiny futures ahead. She knew they'd hurt for quite some time, but Phoebe comforted herself by acknowledging that she wasn't that important. She was the quirky and weird one of the group, an easy replacement, someone anyone would forget about in a matter of seconds.

Phoebe placed her hands on her heart and felt its beating through the soft fabric. She felt tears rolling down her cheeks as a smile spread across her face. She would finally be free from it all. Phoebe took another step towards the edge, her toes now left hanging. Soon, the blackness around her would engulf her, and she'd be left feeling absolutely nothing. The blonde one took one last moment to remember, to think back about her past and everything and everyone she'd be leaving behind. One last breath, one last look at her happiest and dearest memories before it all faded away. She stretched out her foot. This was it. It would all be over in a matter of seconds, she just had to inch closer, and closer, and-

"Pheebs?"