All right, here's some drama from Steph :p, Unrealistic, but hey, most are! :p I think it's original, but maybe I missed a fic that was about the same thing, so this was not meant to be an idea taken from someone else.
Disclaimer...I don't own anyone! :p
Monica looked up at the clock in front of her gazing eyes. It was one minute before midnight. Usually in ones life this didn't matter. The minute between one day to the next was just as normal as toast in the morning, but this was different for Monica. It was a known fact to Monica that her life before was crashing into the ground. Not even realizing how or when or even the signs for that matter. She had grown up in the middle class of this world. Her parents always had enough money, and she was always content with the financial background. What wasn't she happy with? Well, that was something she was not allowed to think about at the moment. Through her one year stay in this place, in this bed, with these people, she had finally understood the term or phrase some may say of, moving on. She just had to think that everyone had their rough moments in life, and that sometimes you have to accept it and forgive yourself. Well, forgive herself? Maybe that was a bit extreme, but accepting was something that she had come to terms with. Monica looked up at the same clock once again. It was midnight. The day that she had been wishing for all year was here, and now, it was going to be hard to leave. Monica stood up went to the small oak wood desk that was placed near the window of the little room she stayed in. She sat in the chair and carefully crossed her legs. Closing her eyes, she let out a sigh filled with emotions of relief, sadness, happiness, and the list went on. Slowly, placing her delicate hand on the desk, she felt it. Just sliding her hands along, reminding herself of the feelings in this room. Finally, she opened her eyes that were not at all ready to be closed for bed time and picked up her journal below her. The journal was a light shade of green with a pink artistic border. The writing on the cover only said journal. It was plain, no life to it. Only the words inside brought life to it. Carefully, she opened the book to the first page and focused her eyes on what she had written. Day 1, February 15th, 1991.... It's my first day here, and I hate it. This was all my fault; I had let everyone down and look where I am now, here. In a place filled with strangers with the same problem as me. Monica took her eyes from the page, and let her memory slide to the first say. . .
****
"Name, please," The receptionist said as if it were just an impulse.
"Monica Geller." she had said feeling nervous. The atmosphere was hard to adjust to, so the idea of staying for a long period of time had made her scared. Who would she meet? Would she make friends?
"Monica, ok, I need you to fill this out. You will ne staying in room 33 on the third floor. Oh, and I remind you that you do live with someone else, so you will have to adjust. Enjoy your stay!" The woman said the last phrase sarcastically which again frightened Monica.
"Ok," was all that Monica could and would attempt to say to this woman. She was obviously bitter working in this place, but then again, why wouldn't she? Monica began to fill out the papers; they were just routine for a record for that center. Maybe, a routine check of who they were dealing with. Monica couldn't smile at this. Everything was different. When finished, she got up and handed the paper work to the woman behind the desk. "Done," It was something simple and direct to say, but this small word said so much.
"Great! Here's your key, and you have everything you need I hope.."
"I do," Monica replied.
"Good, for now, just settle in and maybe get to know the place, and the people because you will be seeing a lot of them." The woman said as though she had it memorized. "Now, go, I have work to do."
Monica turned her head away from the desk and forward into this small world. She couldn't help but feel depressed about being here; she knew it would help her, and then she would be able to start over again, but being here would be hard. Finally after climbing the stairs, she made it to the door that would open her new living arrangement. She took a second to compose herself, and after let her hand turn the knob, and the door was open. What she saw inside surprised her a little. Two beds with light blue sheets, two desks, two night tables, but only one closet. That was going to be interesting. One part of the room was personalized, there were photos, posters, a small radio, and bags in the corner. Her roommate was tidy; that was good for Monica. Monica walked to her bed and sat on it feeling the comfort from it. There was no comfort; not that that surprised her of course. She stood up and began to unpack her belongings; now personalizing her side of the room.
"Um, who are you?" a voice from behind her asked.
"I am Monica, your new roommate I guess," Monica replied as she studied this person. She looked so healthy Monica thought, but then again a lot of people do.
"I have a roommate!!! You know, I was the prom queen in highschool! I should get better treatment!" The girl shouted out of frustration.
"Uhh... look, I got put in here; I didn't choose it." Monica replied in defense.
"No one does. Isn't that the beauty? I am Katherine, but everyone calls me kat here. Well, actually whore, but they don't know any better! So what are you in for?"
"I uhh.." Monica started nervously.
"Oh hey! It's ok to be ashamed. I was a heroine addict myself. It's funny that I can just say it, but being here forever has really helped me."
"Oh, well, I hope it helps me." Monica started, "I guess I was , in a way still, a cocaine addict."
"Oh, coke...That stuff is nasty."
"Don't I know it? I still can't believe it sometimes." Monica confessed.
"You don't seem like the kind of person into drugs. I bet you have a long story for me, but now, let's turn on the music!!" Kat excitedly went to her and played Closer to Free by the Bodeans. "Come on Monica, smile! This place seems rotten at first, but it can get better."
Monica couldn't help but smile, "Ok, I guess I can smile, but just for now."
"Oh, I understand!" Kat laughed and Monica joined her.
****
Suddenly, Monica's mind came back to reality and this was just a memory. A good memory, but still just a memory. Katherine was one of a kind. She was quirky, but strong and extremely realistic to her future. She was real, and because of that Monica would never forget her. Even if she tried. Feeling a bit stiff from sitting in the chair, Monica moved to her bed and looked over at the other side. It was empty. No emotion, just a bed and a desk. It's funny how the room's optimistic look was gone.
She tore her eyes away from the room and back to her journal.. Day 2.. Today I met Chandler... She stopped reading at that first line because that one line said enough.
The end of the first part. It's dramatic I know, but I am taking a stab at it. This is just the beginning, and I have a lot of ideas for this series.. Tell me what you think so far! If you think it's Like Girl Interrupted, it's not supposed to be! :P This was short, but you know me, I can get longer! :p This is just the beginning...