A Different Perspective

by Becca Bing

What if Monica had a daughter when she was in college? How would she react to the six friends...most importantly, to Monica? Epilogue up! Please r&r

9. Chapter 9

A Different Perspective-Chapter 9

I just finished watching t.o. in Vegas pt. 1 and I hate the end. It's so sad when u see Chandler watching Monica…I know they make up, but still! I definitely like the 2nd part better…lol. Anyways, sorry, I'm not gonna mention Emma b/c it doesn't it doesn't really fit in. Plus, it's not that important in Jessica's life. She has bigger things to worry about at this point… 

Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters, except for Jessica.

            It wasn't hard getting used to life with Chandler as my mother's husband. Things were pretty much the same. Well, he did adopt me, but it didn't feel any different. It didn't change the way things were. My mother and I still fought constantly. He'd try to help mediate, but that usually didn't do much. The two of us were just two stubborn. We still are stubborn, but it's different now.

            Anyway, I was in a rebellious stage. I still kind of am, but I don't rebel against my mother because there's no need to now. I began to take a liking to a group of kids in my drama class. They were different from the other kids. They held a very cynical attitude towards everything in life. It felt as if I was destined to be friends with them. They seemed to feel the exact same way I felt—mad and alone in life. They also didn't judge me like the other kids did. By that time, in 10th grade, I had pretty much grown into my looks. I was still very skinny and short, but that was expected. I looked a lot like my mother—even more so now. It's a good thing though. I've definitely accepted the way I look. It wasn't looks that other people judged me for anymore, though. It was my grades. See, I was in the Honors classes. People were highly competitive in those classes. I, on the other hand, didn't care much about my grades. I did well because I was smart and wanted to learn. Not because I was striving to go to Harvard or something like that. That made people jealous of me. They were always trying to do better than me. It was like a competition against me, yet I wasn't competing. It drove me crazy. But with these kids, it was different.

            I spent most of my time with these people. It freaked my mother and Chandler out, though. They saw what these kids looked like, and automatically assumed that they were troublemakers. They were right, but still…they had just assumed. That, of course, set me off. One night, I was invited to a party. I stepped out of my room, wearing a revealing halter and tight pants. When my mother noticed my attire, she was less than thrilled with it.

"Where are you going dressed like that?"

"Out."

"Where?"

"Out."

"Absolutely not! You cannot go dressed like that!" 

"Why not?"

"Because you look…" she stopped speaking, searching for the right words.

"Like a whore?"

"I wasn't going to put it like that, but if you will, than I agree."

"I might look like one," I said smugly, "But we both know who's the whore here."

Chandler, who had been watching the whole ordeal from the kitchen scolded, "Jessica!"

I threw my hands up in resignation, "I'm sorry, but I'm outta here."

I left the apartment, with Chandler fuming and my mother hurting, both due to my words.

            That night, I had gotten pretty drunk. Somehow, I made my way back to the apartment, and entered the building. It was hard to walk, and I felt like the world was spinning below me, yet I found my way back. I walked inside; suddenly fearing what Chandler and my mother would do when they found out I was drunk. I went in anyway, and found the entire gang sitting in the living room. That sure caught me off guard. I hadn't expected them all to be there, and couldn't prepare myself.

"Are you crazy?!" Ross asked, "Do you know what time it is?!"

I looked down at my watch, but couldn't concentrate enough to read it. I hoped that maybe no one would notice I was drunk. However, deep down I knew that it was far too obvious to trick the six of them.

"It's 3 AM!" Rachel informed me.

I stood still, not wanting to speak or walk, in fear that they would realize that I was drunk.

"Well, are you going to explain yourself?" Joey asked.

I was surprised that neither Chandler nor my mother was interrogating me. It was usually one of them giving me a speech, not Ross and especially not Joey.

"I…I was out," I answered in a shaky voice.

Suspiciously, my mother came over to me and observed me closer. I tried to stand confidently, but in reality I was shocked that she knew I was drunk. It was incredible…I thought I had sounded pretty sober. Yet, she knew. Maybe it was apparent on my face, or something.

"Are you drunk?" she questioned quietly.

"No."

Ross also came up to me. "Breathe," he demanded.

I didn't know what else to do, so I did as he commanded.

"Smells like alcohol," he informed everyone.

"Are you drunk?" my mother tried again.

"I…"

My mother sighed heavily. I could tell she had been worrying for hours about where I was. She looked exhausted and sadder than usual.

"Go to your room and go to sleep. We'll talk in the morning."

I did as she told me, but I didn't go to sleep right away. I listened at the door, hearing their conversation out in the living room.

"Why didn't you punish her?" Ross demanded.

"Because she's drunk. I want her to be completely sober when we talk."

"Whatever, I still think…"

"Ross!" she demanded, "It's my daughter, let me do it my way!"

At that moment, I had never felt so young. They were arguing over how to punish me and it made me feel like a small child. I quit listening, and fell asleep, trying not to think about the disappointed faces that had greeted me when I had come home.

            Late that Saturday afternoon, I woke up with a huge hangover. I groaned as I got out of my bed. I definitely wasn't going to complain about the hangover though. I was sure that would win me no points in the fight that I assumed was going to take place very soon. I groaned again, not feeling like fighting, or doing anything else, for that matter. I stumbled out of my room, and saw my mother and Chandler in the kitchen.

"You're finally up," Chandler commented deadpanned.

He was mad at me for acting like I had acted. Not to mention, disappointed in me for getting drunk. Ross was also there, but didn't say anything.

I nodded and headed towards the bathroom. When I came out, my mother was taking all of the pots out of the cabinets, and slamming them down on the table. I moaned involuntarily, the noise causing the pain in my head to increase.

"Does that bother you?" she asked spitefully.

"No," I lied. "Why are you taking the pots out?"

"Oh you're going to be cleaning all of them today. Hope you enjoy yourself."

"Okay…" I agreed.

However, I knew my mother better than that. I was sure she had about a million more punishments lined up for me.

"What are the other punishments?"

"There are none."

"What?"

"That's right. If you want to drink, then do what you want to do. But you have to understand that you're making a huge mistake."

I looked over at Ross, who seemed angry that my mother wasn't punishing me more. I didn't care though. He had gotten high in college. I didn't want to hear about staying sober from him. In fact, all of them, including my mother drank, before reaching the age of 21.

"I don't see why you're all so mad," I ventured.

"Excuse me?" Chandler asked, insulted.

"Well, it's just that I know all of you drank when you were underage."

"That's right, and we did stupid things. We just don't want that to happen to you," Ross explained.

"Bullshit!" I yelled, but then winced at the pain I had caused myself.

"Are you looking to get shipped off to boarding school? Because it's becoming awfully appealing to me!" My mother threatened.

I knew she wasn't serious though. She had threatened that back when I had been expelled and a couple of other times. I knew that she wouldn't be able to send me away. She would've felt too guilty.

"No, but I don't get what the big deal is! I mean you got drunk when you were 18 and…"

"Look where it got me!"

"Well, it wasn't my fuckin' idea to be born! I'm sorry I ruined your whole damn life! Because mine is just a piece of cake, ya know!"

"Cut that sarcasm out," she snapped, "What do you want me to do?"

I didn't answer, so she continued.

"Do you want me to tell you I planned on having you? Because I didn't plan on it. But, do you want me to tell you that you were a mistake? Because you weren't a mistake. I love you, and I never wanted you to have to go through what you had to go through. Hell, I don't want you to have to go through what I went through."

She paused and looked away pensively. I studied her intently. She seemed to be battling with something.

"Jessica," she began, "I have to tell you the truth about the day you were conceived."

Ross stood up abruptly and warned, "Monica, don't!"

"I can't hold it in anymore, Ross! She has to know! She has the right to know! I don't want her thinking I'm a whore anymore! I can't take it anymore. I don't want my friends, my husband, to think I'm a whore. They need to know the truth."

"Monica, don't…" Ross warned again.

"Jessica, what I told you about your birthfather isn't true."

"What?"

I didn't know much about my birthfather, or much about the night I was conceived. All I was told was that my mother had gotten drunk, slept with a guy, and he left in the morning. She didn't know the man's name or use birth control.

I was about to find out that story was not the truth.

"What I told you was just a lie to protect you from the truth. I wanted to tell you the truth, honest, I did! But my mother warned me not to, and told me it would hurt you too much to find out the truth. But I can't let you continue living a lie and I can't allow you to think of me as a slut. I also don't want you making the same mistake I made."

I was beginning to get incredibly nervous by my mother's words. If the story seemed bad already, then I knew it was only about to get worse.

"That night, I was at a party and I got incredibly drunk. I couldn't see straight, could barely walk straight, but I can remember it. I was walking around outside the house, alone, when a man approached me. He grabbed me from behind and began kissing and groping me."

My mother began to cry, but calmed enough to continue her story.

"He continued to kiss me and he threw me down on the ground and ripped off my clothes. He…he…he…"

She couldn't seem to get the words out. It was too painful for her. It was almost as if she was reliving the entire night with her words.

"He raped me," she said in a small voice.

I remember feeling like someone had just stabbed me in the heart with a dagger. It was as if my world came crashing down in front of my very own eyes. I couldn't believe it.

My mom felt the need to continue more. "I shouldn't have been out there, yes, and if I hadn't been so drunk, I probably would've been able to escape the man's grasp. But I couldn't do it…"

My mother began to weep uncontrollably and I watched as Chandler wrapped his arms around her. I stared blankly at the scene in front of me. It felt unreal to me. It couldn't be real. This was all a nightmare. I had to be able to wake up! But I couldn't wake up. A sick joke? I looked around, and everyone was too serious for a prank. Suddenly, I couldn't take it anymore.

"No! No! No!" I shrieked.

I didn't know where or who to turn to. It was as if my entire life had changed with just one confession. I did the only thing I could do. I turned and ran out of the apartment.

            I ran up the stairs and out onto the roof. It was a miserable day. It was gray and rainy, but I didn't care. I just leaned over the edge and stared at the busy street below me. I wanted to jump over the edge and end it all—but I couldn't. Instead, I tried to process the information I had just received. My mother had been rapped. My father was a rapist. A criminal. I had the genes of a criminal inside of me. Then there was my mother. He forced himself upon her. Stealing the last of her 'childhood' and forcing a huge burden onto her shoulders—me. At least, when I believed she was just drunk, I had been formed mutually. The passion and desire shared by both. But no, my so-called father had experienced all the pleasure while my mother was slowly being confined to a life of responsibility and heartache.

I leaned over the edge of the building, allowing my head to fall downwards and closed my eyes. I felt the cold rain and harsh wind blow against my body, but that's not what I thought about. I thought about the way I had treated my mother in the past. I had made it so much harder on her. I mean she not only had the burden of a child, but the memory of the violation that was brought upon her. I decided I knew what I had to do then.

I slowly made my way back downstairs, towards my home. I stopped at the door, and listened from the other side.

"Mon, sweetie, are you okay?" Chandler asked.

"Do you hate me, Chandler?"

"No! Why would I hate you?"

"Because I lied…I was r…aped." She chocked out the last word.

"Why would I hate you for that? If anything I love you even more for being so strong."

"Thank you, Chandler."

"No problem, sweetie."

"Jessica's gonna hate me now, though. I should've told her the truth."

"She's not going to hate you either. You did what you thought was good for her."

I entered the apartment once Chandler said that.

"I really won't hate you, Mom."

When she heard me, she began crying again and threw her arms around me.

"I'm sorry! I'm so, so sorry!"

"It's not your fault."

"I shouldn't have lied."

"You did what you thought was right. It's okay, really."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

She hugged me tighter and I hugged her back. Suddenly, all the tears that hadn't come before came flowing out. My body shook when the repressed emotions were let out. Normally, I would be embarrassed to cry, but I couldn't help it. I just had to cry. She held me tighter when I began to sob and we held each other until we both stopped weeping. Chandler came over to me and kissed my head.

"You're a good kid."

I smiled and he kissed my mother and then left the apartment. I guess he figured we needed some time alone.

"I think there's a lot we need to work out," my mother told me, "But I think we can do it."

"I think so, too."

"Good. I was thinking of maybe, a therapist for us, if that's okay."

"Yeah, that's okay." I paused trying to muster up the courage to say what I wanted to say. "Mom, I'm sorry for being so…so hard on you."

"It's okay. You didn't know…"

"No!" I cut her off, "I shouldn't have been that mean to me, no matter what. Whether it's a mistake or not, you've tried your best to make it right. I've been making that too hard for you, though."

"No, it's both of us, honey. I guess we both resent a lot in our lives and take it out on each other."

"Yeah."

She hugged me again and kissed my cheek.

At that moment, I was able to truly see and feel what love was.

"Mom," I whispered.

"Yeah sweetheart?"

"I love you."

My mom smiled and tried to hold back her tears again. This time, I could tell they were tears of happiness.

"I love you, too, sweetie."

There we go. I think that's my longest chapter so far! Ok there's gonna be one more chapter. It's an epilogue type thing…sorta. Well, you'll see. Anyways, happy New Year! I hope you enjoyed this chapter…the next one'll be up shortly. Please leave me a review.