No Reason To Go on
Chapter 1: the Wrong Thing to Say.
The track team completed it's final lap around the field for that day with Ross at the rear. Cheers from the watching cheerleaders were heard, and Ross's cheeks reddened as he saw Rachel watching him.
"Pick up the pace!" She called to him, as the faster runners reached the starting point once again.
Ross tried his best to do so, but only succeeded in passing one or two of the 20 or so boys in front of them.
"Okay, hit the showers!" The coach called once everyone had gotten back. "Geller, stay." Ross turned from where he'd been heading towards the showers to face his coach.
"Yes, sir?" He asked, wiping sweat from his face.
"Your speed's been terrible lately!" The cheerleaders watched with interest from behind them, Ross flinching as he saw Rachel among them.
"I-I'm sorry Coach," he muttered.
"Either lose some weight, or lose your spot on the team." Though he hadn't meant to, he'd just made Ross's self-a steam drop a notch lower; if that was possible.
"Yes, Coach," Ross nodded.
"Good. Now, hit the showers!" The coach gave Ross an affection it punch on the arm, making Ross wince. He'd just slit his wrists in that spot that morning, and the wound was still tender.
"Hey, Ross!" Ross hefted his backpack up more on his shoulder and turned to look at the person who had called him.
Rachel was still on the track field, brushing her hair casually and reading People Magazine. "I'm going to your house. Do you wanna walk home?"
Ross's heart gave a little leap of excitement. "Uh, sure!" He said quickly.
The two walked through the falling leaves in silence, Rachel trying hard to keep her teeth from chattering. "So, you sleeping over again tonight?"
Ross's unexpected question made Rachel jump slightly. "Oh, maybe. I was just coming over for dinner, Mon invited me."
Ross glanced in her direction for a moment. "You cold?" He pulled off his Lincoln High sweatshirt, and aquarelle draped it around Rachel's shoulders, leaving his own arms bare and exposed.
"Thanks," Rachel smiled gratefully at him.
They walked the rest of the way to the Geller's in silence, Ross trying desperately to hide his wrists from Rachel.
"Hi, Rach!" Monica greeted them at the door, barely giving Ross a second glance. "Guess what? That new guy in the Science club called for me today!" Ross watched the two girls run off, Rachel forgetting to take off his sweatshirt.
Ross sighed again, and turned on the TV.
He could concentrate on it however, with the shrieks and giggles coming from upstairs. He finally reached over and turned it off, heading upstairs himself.
Monica's bedroom door was closed as he walked by, and he heard talking from inside. He was about to walk onto his own room when he heard his own name come up in the conversation.
".Isn't that Ross's sweatshirt?"
"Yeah, I was cold, so." Rachel sounded like she didn't want to talk about it.
"I still can't believe he joined the track team!" Monica said, and it sounded like she'd started eating something while still speaking.
"I know." Ross didn't want to hear anymore.
Instead, he escaped to the safety and piece of his room.
"Kids, dinner!" Ross jumped at his mother's voice sometime later.
He walked downstairs just behind the girls, nearly bumping into Rachel several times.
His mother had ordered pizza, but Ross forced himself not to eat very much. I need to lose weight. I need to lose weight. I need to.
"Hey Ross, could you pass the milk?" Ross jumped at his sister's question.
"Huh.? Oh, sure!" He reached over and slid the milk carton over to him, almost not hearing the gasp from beside him.
He turned sharply to see Rachel, who was sitting on his right staring at his arm in shock.
"How'd that happen?" She asked quietly, so as not to alert the rest of the Geller's.
"I-I dropped my razor while shaving this morning," Ross lied quickly.
"Oh, that's all," apparently Rachel had believed him.
"Yeah, no big deal," Ross turned back to pushing his food around on his plate.
"Mom, did we get anymore pizza?" Monica, who was downing her fifth slice asked through a mouthful.
"No," Judy answered, with a disapproving glance in her daughter's direction.
"May I be excused?" Ross asked quietly, having barely touched his pizza.
"You all right, son?" Jack inquired, looking closely at Ross.
"Yeah, I'm fine." Ross muttered, pushing his chair back from the table.
He ran in the if possible messier bathroom, and knelt by the toilet. Sticking his index finger in his mouth, he pushed down hard on his tongue until he gagged.
Th-there, he thought while vomiting the little dinner he'd just eaten. Th- that'll show 'um.
After he was satisfied that he'd thrown up enough for now, he flushed the toilet and pulled the now all to familiar pocketknife. Though he'd told himself that it was only going to be for one time, he couldn't stop.
He jammed the blade into his skin, so hard that he had to drop the knife and grab the counter for support. Blood was dripping everywhere, and he quickly grabbed a paper towel to stop the flow. Once he'd calmed down, he picked up the knife, and continued the process.
-
His bedroom was dark, and Ross squinted to make out the numbers on his alarm clock. 3:30AM. He felt a dizzying feeling sweep over him, and staggered to his feet, making his way as best he could to the bathroom.
Once there, he collapsed on hands and knees, and vomited. He wasn't sure how long he stayed there, but it wasn't making him feel any better.
Finally, he raised his head, and tried to catch his breath. He tried, but failed to stand. Finally succeeding, he walked over and looked himself over in the mirror. Dark circles were under his eyes, and he looked pale and shaky. "Wh-why am I doing this to myself?" He panted, leaning heavily on the counter to stay upright.
Abruptly, another reflection appeared beside his. Ross didn't notice right away, he was to intent on staying on his feet.
But appearently, his body wasn't finished ridding itself of food. Ross fell, and crawled back to the toilit, things coming in and out of focus. He was still shaking, and was now coughing up blood. Finally, about 15 minutes later, he felt that he was able to go back to bed. He flushed the toilit, and walked over to the sink to wash the sweat and bits of vomit and blood from his face.
He still didn't notice his silent watcher.
[A/N
Okay, so this wasn't that much longer, sorry. I realized that Monica was out of character, but I'm not that good with writing her as a teen. Well, please review! Am I rushing the plot? It feels like I am to me.
Well, sorry again that this was so short, I'l hurry it up with part 2!
L_angel]
Chapter 1: the Wrong Thing to Say.
The track team completed it's final lap around the field for that day with Ross at the rear. Cheers from the watching cheerleaders were heard, and Ross's cheeks reddened as he saw Rachel watching him.
"Pick up the pace!" She called to him, as the faster runners reached the starting point once again.
Ross tried his best to do so, but only succeeded in passing one or two of the 20 or so boys in front of them.
"Okay, hit the showers!" The coach called once everyone had gotten back. "Geller, stay." Ross turned from where he'd been heading towards the showers to face his coach.
"Yes, sir?" He asked, wiping sweat from his face.
"Your speed's been terrible lately!" The cheerleaders watched with interest from behind them, Ross flinching as he saw Rachel among them.
"I-I'm sorry Coach," he muttered.
"Either lose some weight, or lose your spot on the team." Though he hadn't meant to, he'd just made Ross's self-a steam drop a notch lower; if that was possible.
"Yes, Coach," Ross nodded.
"Good. Now, hit the showers!" The coach gave Ross an affection it punch on the arm, making Ross wince. He'd just slit his wrists in that spot that morning, and the wound was still tender.
"Hey, Ross!" Ross hefted his backpack up more on his shoulder and turned to look at the person who had called him.
Rachel was still on the track field, brushing her hair casually and reading People Magazine. "I'm going to your house. Do you wanna walk home?"
Ross's heart gave a little leap of excitement. "Uh, sure!" He said quickly.
The two walked through the falling leaves in silence, Rachel trying hard to keep her teeth from chattering. "So, you sleeping over again tonight?"
Ross's unexpected question made Rachel jump slightly. "Oh, maybe. I was just coming over for dinner, Mon invited me."
Ross glanced in her direction for a moment. "You cold?" He pulled off his Lincoln High sweatshirt, and aquarelle draped it around Rachel's shoulders, leaving his own arms bare and exposed.
"Thanks," Rachel smiled gratefully at him.
They walked the rest of the way to the Geller's in silence, Ross trying desperately to hide his wrists from Rachel.
"Hi, Rach!" Monica greeted them at the door, barely giving Ross a second glance. "Guess what? That new guy in the Science club called for me today!" Ross watched the two girls run off, Rachel forgetting to take off his sweatshirt.
Ross sighed again, and turned on the TV.
He could concentrate on it however, with the shrieks and giggles coming from upstairs. He finally reached over and turned it off, heading upstairs himself.
Monica's bedroom door was closed as he walked by, and he heard talking from inside. He was about to walk onto his own room when he heard his own name come up in the conversation.
".Isn't that Ross's sweatshirt?"
"Yeah, I was cold, so." Rachel sounded like she didn't want to talk about it.
"I still can't believe he joined the track team!" Monica said, and it sounded like she'd started eating something while still speaking.
"I know." Ross didn't want to hear anymore.
Instead, he escaped to the safety and piece of his room.
"Kids, dinner!" Ross jumped at his mother's voice sometime later.
He walked downstairs just behind the girls, nearly bumping into Rachel several times.
His mother had ordered pizza, but Ross forced himself not to eat very much. I need to lose weight. I need to lose weight. I need to.
"Hey Ross, could you pass the milk?" Ross jumped at his sister's question.
"Huh.? Oh, sure!" He reached over and slid the milk carton over to him, almost not hearing the gasp from beside him.
He turned sharply to see Rachel, who was sitting on his right staring at his arm in shock.
"How'd that happen?" She asked quietly, so as not to alert the rest of the Geller's.
"I-I dropped my razor while shaving this morning," Ross lied quickly.
"Oh, that's all," apparently Rachel had believed him.
"Yeah, no big deal," Ross turned back to pushing his food around on his plate.
"Mom, did we get anymore pizza?" Monica, who was downing her fifth slice asked through a mouthful.
"No," Judy answered, with a disapproving glance in her daughter's direction.
"May I be excused?" Ross asked quietly, having barely touched his pizza.
"You all right, son?" Jack inquired, looking closely at Ross.
"Yeah, I'm fine." Ross muttered, pushing his chair back from the table.
He ran in the if possible messier bathroom, and knelt by the toilet. Sticking his index finger in his mouth, he pushed down hard on his tongue until he gagged.
Th-there, he thought while vomiting the little dinner he'd just eaten. Th- that'll show 'um.
After he was satisfied that he'd thrown up enough for now, he flushed the toilet and pulled the now all to familiar pocketknife. Though he'd told himself that it was only going to be for one time, he couldn't stop.
He jammed the blade into his skin, so hard that he had to drop the knife and grab the counter for support. Blood was dripping everywhere, and he quickly grabbed a paper towel to stop the flow. Once he'd calmed down, he picked up the knife, and continued the process.
-
His bedroom was dark, and Ross squinted to make out the numbers on his alarm clock. 3:30AM. He felt a dizzying feeling sweep over him, and staggered to his feet, making his way as best he could to the bathroom.
Once there, he collapsed on hands and knees, and vomited. He wasn't sure how long he stayed there, but it wasn't making him feel any better.
Finally, he raised his head, and tried to catch his breath. He tried, but failed to stand. Finally succeeding, he walked over and looked himself over in the mirror. Dark circles were under his eyes, and he looked pale and shaky. "Wh-why am I doing this to myself?" He panted, leaning heavily on the counter to stay upright.
Abruptly, another reflection appeared beside his. Ross didn't notice right away, he was to intent on staying on his feet.
But appearently, his body wasn't finished ridding itself of food. Ross fell, and crawled back to the toilit, things coming in and out of focus. He was still shaking, and was now coughing up blood. Finally, about 15 minutes later, he felt that he was able to go back to bed. He flushed the toilit, and walked over to the sink to wash the sweat and bits of vomit and blood from his face.
He still didn't notice his silent watcher.
[A/N
Okay, so this wasn't that much longer, sorry. I realized that Monica was out of character, but I'm not that good with writing her as a teen. Well, please review! Am I rushing the plot? It feels like I am to me.
Well, sorry again that this was so short, I'l hurry it up with part 2!
L_angel]