THE PHOEBE YEARS
Author's Note/ All right, if you don't like gruesome description, or EXTREME angst, I suggest you click that old exit button right now. I'm not kidding; do not read if such content offends you. Also, I don't own Friends, though I do own a TV show called Pals. It's basically the same thing, except it only exists in my head and Phoobie, Mornica and Rachael can't wait to sleep with me.
Chapter II: The Discovery
"Hey, Ursula, could you help me find some arms?"
"Uh, no," Phoebe's sister hollered back.
It was a crisp, December morning. Phoebe Buffet had nearly finished what she called "a really, really cool snowman". Even at fourteen, Phoebe still loved to play in the snow. However, her twin, Ursula, was not at all interested in snowmen. She was into real men, mainly the cute, Italian guy who lived across the street. Ursula made a habit of watching him as he shoveled his driveway.
Sighing at her twin's indifference, Phoebe went to collect sticks for snowman arms herself. She trotted through the snow, giving off misty wraiths as she breathed. There was only one tree in the Buffet yard, but it supplied plenty of dead sticks in winter. Around its base, Phoebe went searching for arms. There were plenty of sticks, but Phoebe needed perfect arms. She had spent the last hour working on her snowman, and she wanted it to be the best ever. Phoebe needed something good to hold onto while the rest of her life was falling apart.
Don't think about Creepjob. Don't think about money. You're building a snowman today and you're going to be happy.
Obeying this inner voice, Phoebe pushed aside her troubles and went crawling through the snow in search of sticks. Finding perfect snowman arms was not easy. Some sticks were too long, while others were to short. Some had too many branches, while others had too few to work as fingers.
It was then that she spotted her goal. Above Phoebe's head, sticking out of the tree, were two perfect arms. They were the same length as human arms and had a little curve where the elbow should be. Also, each stick split into five different directions at the end, perfectly imitating a human hand. Finding one such stick would have been called lucky; finding two was a miracle.
At first, Phoebe did nothing. Those sticks were so perfect that she gazed up at them in wonder. Then, she jumped for them. Unfortunately, she didn't jump very far. The sticks were too far up for her to grasp. Futilely, Phoebe jumped for the sticks again and again. They were perfect, but just out of reach!
Come on, you stupid sticks! You're going to be arms! Let me get you! Arrgh!
Then, Phoebe remembered there were hedge clippers in the house. With those she could just cut them down. Slightly embarrassed at having jumped so much for nothing, Phoebe hurried off to the house.
Lily Buffet's house was far from great. She didn't have a job, and her third husband had been sent to prison for trying to rape Phoebe. Without a job of her own, Lily couldn't afford to keep the home in good repair. The paint on the sides was coming off, the wooden front porch was beginning to dilapidate, and the inside was very messy.
A lot of the time, Phoebe's heart became pained when she entered the house. It was a reminder of how poor off she and her family were. But today, with the promise of the world's best snowman arms for the world's best snowman, Phoebe didn't have time for sorrow. She burst into the living room, carelessly dragging snow across the floor.
"Hey, Mom, where do we keep the hedge clippers?" Phoebe called.
There wasn't an answer. She then saw that her mother had set two steaming mugs of hot cocoa and some brownies on the coffee table. Realizing she was cold and kind of hungry, Phoebe took a cautious sip from the mug. Lily Buffet knew how to make a good cup of chocolate, and the brownie was great. Carrying her snack, Phoebe started to walk towards the kitchen. Still no sign of her mother.
"Mom, where are you?" called Phoebe.
Once more, there wasn't an answer. One foot in the kitchen. Second foot. Head in. Looking. Oh my God! Oh, sweet God NO! NO! NONONONO!
Lying on the kitchen floor was Lily Buffet. Her limp body smelled like copper. The smell was the smell of blood. Lily had taken a kitchen knife and cut her wrists. Phoebe could see the blood, her mother's life, draining out of her flesh. A weird, relieved grin twisted Lily Buffet's face.
With a jolt Phoebe jumped backwards several feet. She landed on her shin and smashed a couple fingers, but didn't care. Quite instantly she got up and ran, ran, ran! Phoebe wanted away from that body, away from that blood.
My mother isn't dead! I saw nothing! Nothing! No, she isn't dead. That can't happen today. I'm building a snowman today. BAD THINGS DON'T HAPPEN WHEN YOU'RE BUILDING A SNOWMAN!
A deafening crash came to Phoebe's ears. In her startled state, when she turned to see where it came from, she lost all balance and fell into the snow. Pulling herself up, the fourteen-year-old girl saw the tree. The snow had caused the dead branches to fall to the ground. Despite the importance of what had happened inside (It didn't happen! Nothing is wrong! Nobody is dead!), this struck Phoebe deep. For she knew, in her heart, that the world's most perfect snowman arms had been destroyed.
Falling back to the ground, tiny bits of the snow melted under Phoebe's tears. They were perfect and now they're gone! She was perfect and now she's gone! No! No! No! No! NO!
Author's Note/ All right, if you don't like gruesome description, or EXTREME angst, I suggest you click that old exit button right now. I'm not kidding; do not read if such content offends you. Also, I don't own Friends, though I do own a TV show called Pals. It's basically the same thing, except it only exists in my head and Phoobie, Mornica and Rachael can't wait to sleep with me.
Chapter II: The Discovery
"Hey, Ursula, could you help me find some arms?"
"Uh, no," Phoebe's sister hollered back.
It was a crisp, December morning. Phoebe Buffet had nearly finished what she called "a really, really cool snowman". Even at fourteen, Phoebe still loved to play in the snow. However, her twin, Ursula, was not at all interested in snowmen. She was into real men, mainly the cute, Italian guy who lived across the street. Ursula made a habit of watching him as he shoveled his driveway.
Sighing at her twin's indifference, Phoebe went to collect sticks for snowman arms herself. She trotted through the snow, giving off misty wraiths as she breathed. There was only one tree in the Buffet yard, but it supplied plenty of dead sticks in winter. Around its base, Phoebe went searching for arms. There were plenty of sticks, but Phoebe needed perfect arms. She had spent the last hour working on her snowman, and she wanted it to be the best ever. Phoebe needed something good to hold onto while the rest of her life was falling apart.
Don't think about Creepjob. Don't think about money. You're building a snowman today and you're going to be happy.
Obeying this inner voice, Phoebe pushed aside her troubles and went crawling through the snow in search of sticks. Finding perfect snowman arms was not easy. Some sticks were too long, while others were to short. Some had too many branches, while others had too few to work as fingers.
It was then that she spotted her goal. Above Phoebe's head, sticking out of the tree, were two perfect arms. They were the same length as human arms and had a little curve where the elbow should be. Also, each stick split into five different directions at the end, perfectly imitating a human hand. Finding one such stick would have been called lucky; finding two was a miracle.
At first, Phoebe did nothing. Those sticks were so perfect that she gazed up at them in wonder. Then, she jumped for them. Unfortunately, she didn't jump very far. The sticks were too far up for her to grasp. Futilely, Phoebe jumped for the sticks again and again. They were perfect, but just out of reach!
Come on, you stupid sticks! You're going to be arms! Let me get you! Arrgh!
Then, Phoebe remembered there were hedge clippers in the house. With those she could just cut them down. Slightly embarrassed at having jumped so much for nothing, Phoebe hurried off to the house.
Lily Buffet's house was far from great. She didn't have a job, and her third husband had been sent to prison for trying to rape Phoebe. Without a job of her own, Lily couldn't afford to keep the home in good repair. The paint on the sides was coming off, the wooden front porch was beginning to dilapidate, and the inside was very messy.
A lot of the time, Phoebe's heart became pained when she entered the house. It was a reminder of how poor off she and her family were. But today, with the promise of the world's best snowman arms for the world's best snowman, Phoebe didn't have time for sorrow. She burst into the living room, carelessly dragging snow across the floor.
"Hey, Mom, where do we keep the hedge clippers?" Phoebe called.
There wasn't an answer. She then saw that her mother had set two steaming mugs of hot cocoa and some brownies on the coffee table. Realizing she was cold and kind of hungry, Phoebe took a cautious sip from the mug. Lily Buffet knew how to make a good cup of chocolate, and the brownie was great. Carrying her snack, Phoebe started to walk towards the kitchen. Still no sign of her mother.
"Mom, where are you?" called Phoebe.
Once more, there wasn't an answer. One foot in the kitchen. Second foot. Head in. Looking. Oh my God! Oh, sweet God NO! NO! NONONONO!
Lying on the kitchen floor was Lily Buffet. Her limp body smelled like copper. The smell was the smell of blood. Lily had taken a kitchen knife and cut her wrists. Phoebe could see the blood, her mother's life, draining out of her flesh. A weird, relieved grin twisted Lily Buffet's face.
With a jolt Phoebe jumped backwards several feet. She landed on her shin and smashed a couple fingers, but didn't care. Quite instantly she got up and ran, ran, ran! Phoebe wanted away from that body, away from that blood.
My mother isn't dead! I saw nothing! Nothing! No, she isn't dead. That can't happen today. I'm building a snowman today. BAD THINGS DON'T HAPPEN WHEN YOU'RE BUILDING A SNOWMAN!
A deafening crash came to Phoebe's ears. In her startled state, when she turned to see where it came from, she lost all balance and fell into the snow. Pulling herself up, the fourteen-year-old girl saw the tree. The snow had caused the dead branches to fall to the ground. Despite the importance of what had happened inside (It didn't happen! Nothing is wrong! Nobody is dead!), this struck Phoebe deep. For she knew, in her heart, that the world's most perfect snowman arms had been destroyed.
Falling back to the ground, tiny bits of the snow melted under Phoebe's tears. They were perfect and now they're gone! She was perfect and now she's gone! No! No! No! No! NO!