Hi people second chapter is now here. I really don't know where I'm going
with but I've wanted to write a dark fic bout Chandler for ages so I
started writing. Please review and tell me whether it's good or not. I
agree with the person who said that a three year old wouldn't think about
himself like that so I'll try not to do that this time.
Disclaimer: what? I DON'T own them? OH MY GOD! Sorry that's just too much of a shock for me to handle.
'Chandler, why are you doing this again?' Monica asked. I didn't think it was to me, more a general thinking out loud. A few years ago when I broke up with Kathy I started to hurt myself again. It was the first time that my friends knew of. I saw it as a way of converting all of my mental pain and anguish in to physical pain. Physical pain I can deal with. It's over quicker and out of my system. I remembered when I first felt real pain. The pain that I still live with, that drives me over the edge when I feel weak.
'Chandler honey! Dinners ready' My mom called. I was watching TV with Lizzie. It was thanksgiving. I loved Thanksgiving. It was the time of year when everyone was happy. Dad usually wasn't drunk or violent and mom would be in a good mood. I switched of the TV and ran in to the dining room with Lizzie. Mom was there and for once she had put make-up on and had fixed her hair differently. She hardly ever made the effort anymore. It made me feel better knowing than mommy was happy. It was very unsettling for a young child to watch their mom cry. I'd never felt so helpless. It was meant to be your mom comforting you, not the other way around. Still Thanksgiving was different, everyone was happy.
The door slammed and dad walked in to the dining room. I heart sank as I relied just how drunk he was. I can't remember a proper time when he was actually sober. He walked over to the table and barley glanced at all the food that had looked so delicious before he swept the table to the floor in one sweep of his hand. Lizzie screamed and I backed up against the wall, to scared to do anything else. Mom shouted at him. He stared strait at her and walked over to her. She started to back away from my dad as he approached her and even I knew what was coming. She flinched as he touched her face gently with his fingers, then he pulled back and slapped her. She fell to the ground and started shaking. He kicker her, punched her and stared to throw anything he could find at her. I was terrified. I wanted to run over and yell at him to stop but my body wouldn't do anything I told it to. I just stood there, backed against the wall quivering with fear. It was Lizzie that ran over to him. She screamed at him and hit his back as he continued to beat mom up. He turned around and looked strait in to Lizzie's eyes. At that moment everyone in the room knew what was going to happen. Sure enough it did. He struck out at Lizzie and sent her frail, battered body across the room. She hit the upturned table at a funny angle and lay motionless on the floor beside it. A scream rang out in the room and I didn't realise it was mine. I ran over to Lizzie and I saw the full extent of my father handy work.
'Lizzie? Lizzie? Please get up. Dads coming. Be a good girl like you tell me to be good.' I whispered, crying my heart out. I'd never seen anything worse. Lizzie lay there motionless. Her face was very pale and blood was leaking out of mouth. Her head was turned at a funny angle and it was obvious her neck was broken. To my relief mom came over to look at her. She was crying and once again I felt more then helpless.
'Oh my God. Lizzie, darling, if you can hear me sweetie please say something.' Nothing came from Lizzie and moms' sobs became louder and more painful. I was crying too. I didn't understand what was wrong. Why wouldn't she wake up? Dad walked across the room and swiftly knocked me and mom aside. He picked up Lizzie and then dropped her back down again. He sneered down at her and I realised things were defiantly bad this time. 'Stay away from us!' she said to my dad. She scooped me up in her arms and ran out of the house. Practically throwing me in the car she locked the door and ran round to the drivers side. I chanced a look back at the house and saw dad staggering afterwards. I knew that if he were a little more sober then he would reach us in no time. Mom turned the key in the car and sped off.
A few hours later we had arrived in a rich neighbourhood. I vaguely remembered it as my moms' friends neighbour hood. Where she always took Lizzie and me on weekends. That was before dad started to hit her as well and for some reason she stopped taking us. She pulled up outside the house and carried me in.
'It's going to be alright sweetheart. It'll be alright.' She whispered in my ear. The door opened and my moms' friend stood in the doorway. 'Oh Nora! Please help! I don't know what to do. Take Chandler for tonight. I'll ring in the morning and sort this all out. Whatever you do don't let anyone take him.' My mother said as soon as the door was opened. Nora's eyes were wide with shock as she saw me and my mom all battered and bruised on her doorstep. She took me in her arms and nodded. She understood the situation better then me it seemed.
'Where's Lizzie?' she asked, but it was as though she already knew the answer.
'He was really mad this time Nora. Went insane. She was trying to help me and now.' she trailed off and started sobbing. 'Look after Chandler and I'll speak to you tomorrow. She went back to the car and that was the last time I ever saw her.
As Monica rocked me in her arms I calmed down. The self-harm therapy had worked and I didn't hurt as much. I ignored the phone when it rang and let the answer machine pick it up. I froze as I heard the voice come through the machine.
'Chandler it's your father. I'd like to see you again. I know where you live now and I'll be round tomorrow. If your not there I'll catch you another time.' The voice sounded so normal, unthreatening and casual but to me it was my death sentence.
'No!' I said, sharply pulling away from Monica. 'No! No he can't see me. No! He can't. I don't want to see him. I cant.' I said in desperation. The actual words I wanted to say wouldn't come out and I was uttering gibberish.
'Chandler what's wrong? I think it would be good to speak to him again. Tie up old ends and start again.' I stared at her. She didn't understand. She didn't know. That wasn't the father she knew of. My real one. The one that had killed my sister all those years ago. Probably killed my mother as well. And now it seemed he would be after me.
This seems like a cruel enough place to leave it. Unless I double the amount of reviews I have I shan't be continuing.
I would like to take a moment and warn you against self-harm. I was one of the people who used to rely on this and I can tell you; it's not the thing to do. If you feel any desire to harm yourself speak to some one, a friend, parent or visit the www.selfharmalliance.org it's a really helpful site.
-Vixie Bing
Disclaimer: what? I DON'T own them? OH MY GOD! Sorry that's just too much of a shock for me to handle.
'Chandler, why are you doing this again?' Monica asked. I didn't think it was to me, more a general thinking out loud. A few years ago when I broke up with Kathy I started to hurt myself again. It was the first time that my friends knew of. I saw it as a way of converting all of my mental pain and anguish in to physical pain. Physical pain I can deal with. It's over quicker and out of my system. I remembered when I first felt real pain. The pain that I still live with, that drives me over the edge when I feel weak.
'Chandler honey! Dinners ready' My mom called. I was watching TV with Lizzie. It was thanksgiving. I loved Thanksgiving. It was the time of year when everyone was happy. Dad usually wasn't drunk or violent and mom would be in a good mood. I switched of the TV and ran in to the dining room with Lizzie. Mom was there and for once she had put make-up on and had fixed her hair differently. She hardly ever made the effort anymore. It made me feel better knowing than mommy was happy. It was very unsettling for a young child to watch their mom cry. I'd never felt so helpless. It was meant to be your mom comforting you, not the other way around. Still Thanksgiving was different, everyone was happy.
The door slammed and dad walked in to the dining room. I heart sank as I relied just how drunk he was. I can't remember a proper time when he was actually sober. He walked over to the table and barley glanced at all the food that had looked so delicious before he swept the table to the floor in one sweep of his hand. Lizzie screamed and I backed up against the wall, to scared to do anything else. Mom shouted at him. He stared strait at her and walked over to her. She started to back away from my dad as he approached her and even I knew what was coming. She flinched as he touched her face gently with his fingers, then he pulled back and slapped her. She fell to the ground and started shaking. He kicker her, punched her and stared to throw anything he could find at her. I was terrified. I wanted to run over and yell at him to stop but my body wouldn't do anything I told it to. I just stood there, backed against the wall quivering with fear. It was Lizzie that ran over to him. She screamed at him and hit his back as he continued to beat mom up. He turned around and looked strait in to Lizzie's eyes. At that moment everyone in the room knew what was going to happen. Sure enough it did. He struck out at Lizzie and sent her frail, battered body across the room. She hit the upturned table at a funny angle and lay motionless on the floor beside it. A scream rang out in the room and I didn't realise it was mine. I ran over to Lizzie and I saw the full extent of my father handy work.
'Lizzie? Lizzie? Please get up. Dads coming. Be a good girl like you tell me to be good.' I whispered, crying my heart out. I'd never seen anything worse. Lizzie lay there motionless. Her face was very pale and blood was leaking out of mouth. Her head was turned at a funny angle and it was obvious her neck was broken. To my relief mom came over to look at her. She was crying and once again I felt more then helpless.
'Oh my God. Lizzie, darling, if you can hear me sweetie please say something.' Nothing came from Lizzie and moms' sobs became louder and more painful. I was crying too. I didn't understand what was wrong. Why wouldn't she wake up? Dad walked across the room and swiftly knocked me and mom aside. He picked up Lizzie and then dropped her back down again. He sneered down at her and I realised things were defiantly bad this time. 'Stay away from us!' she said to my dad. She scooped me up in her arms and ran out of the house. Practically throwing me in the car she locked the door and ran round to the drivers side. I chanced a look back at the house and saw dad staggering afterwards. I knew that if he were a little more sober then he would reach us in no time. Mom turned the key in the car and sped off.
A few hours later we had arrived in a rich neighbourhood. I vaguely remembered it as my moms' friends neighbour hood. Where she always took Lizzie and me on weekends. That was before dad started to hit her as well and for some reason she stopped taking us. She pulled up outside the house and carried me in.
'It's going to be alright sweetheart. It'll be alright.' She whispered in my ear. The door opened and my moms' friend stood in the doorway. 'Oh Nora! Please help! I don't know what to do. Take Chandler for tonight. I'll ring in the morning and sort this all out. Whatever you do don't let anyone take him.' My mother said as soon as the door was opened. Nora's eyes were wide with shock as she saw me and my mom all battered and bruised on her doorstep. She took me in her arms and nodded. She understood the situation better then me it seemed.
'Where's Lizzie?' she asked, but it was as though she already knew the answer.
'He was really mad this time Nora. Went insane. She was trying to help me and now.' she trailed off and started sobbing. 'Look after Chandler and I'll speak to you tomorrow. She went back to the car and that was the last time I ever saw her.
As Monica rocked me in her arms I calmed down. The self-harm therapy had worked and I didn't hurt as much. I ignored the phone when it rang and let the answer machine pick it up. I froze as I heard the voice come through the machine.
'Chandler it's your father. I'd like to see you again. I know where you live now and I'll be round tomorrow. If your not there I'll catch you another time.' The voice sounded so normal, unthreatening and casual but to me it was my death sentence.
'No!' I said, sharply pulling away from Monica. 'No! No he can't see me. No! He can't. I don't want to see him. I cant.' I said in desperation. The actual words I wanted to say wouldn't come out and I was uttering gibberish.
'Chandler what's wrong? I think it would be good to speak to him again. Tie up old ends and start again.' I stared at her. She didn't understand. She didn't know. That wasn't the father she knew of. My real one. The one that had killed my sister all those years ago. Probably killed my mother as well. And now it seemed he would be after me.
This seems like a cruel enough place to leave it. Unless I double the amount of reviews I have I shan't be continuing.
I would like to take a moment and warn you against self-harm. I was one of the people who used to rely on this and I can tell you; it's not the thing to do. If you feel any desire to harm yourself speak to some one, a friend, parent or visit the www.selfharmalliance.org it's a really helpful site.
-Vixie Bing