*7 years later*
It wasn't that she loved her, she did with all her heart, but it was never how she imagined. She couldn't look at her without feeling that jolt of pain, because there was so much of him in her. She'd never got over it, she hadn't really expected to but she'd never planned on it being this hard. She knew it wasn't good for her, good for either of them, but she couldn't ever see it getting better. She felt guilty for everything, and every time she looked at the little girl it bought it all back, she was the reason his face showed that expression that she had never wanted to see, that she never wanted to see again, and subconsciously she blamed both of them, she needed to blame someone, and that was why she couldn't give her everything she wanted, that was why she didn't love her as much as she wanted to. He was supposed to be there, to share it, to help her, to hold her and tell her it would be ok, but he wasn't, and he wasn't ever going to be.
Ella was different from other children, she didn't have anyone to turn to, it was just her and her mummy, and that was the way it always had been. Her mother was always miserable and sometimes she could still hear her crying through the bedroom wall, and that upset her more than anything. She had problems, she didn't fit in anywhere, and she was quiet, almost a recluse, apart from the tantrums. She was six years old and didn't understand everything and that just made it worse, Monica knew she was different and that just made the pain much worse, knowing a lot of it was her fault, she couldn't deal with that on top of everything else, and although she tried as hard there was something deep inside of her always holding her back. No one was around to understand, and that one person who probably could, wasn't there anymore.
Monica stood watching her playing out in the snow alone. Ella was building a snowman, all by herself, that's how everything was done, alone. Monica couldn't help but let tears roll down her face; everything was exactly how he used to do it, the same mannerisms everything. It was killing her, but she didn't realise just how much it was hurting her daughter at the same time.
Monica opened the door and went out to join her daughter.
"Wow that's a great snowman Ella, what's he called?" She said, trying to sound as cheerful as possible.
"Tree-bore" Ella stated
"That's an unusual name" Monica replied
"He told me that was his name" Ella said, matter-of -factly.
Monica shrugged it off a normal six-year-old activity but something deep down knew that there was something stranger about it. Monica walked back inside; clearly her presence was not welcomed by the girl and her snowman, and continued watching her from the inside. Monica watched as her daughter put the finishing touches on her snowman, and then suddenly started beating and kicking it to the ground until its former human self became just a lump of snow in the garden. Ella was screaming at the snowman and tears were streaming down her face. Monica felt a shiver up her spine, not from the chilly winter air, but from that deep down subconscious feeling which rose up, and the realisation of just how disturbed her daughter was drove straight into her heart.
Monica ran outside and tried to comfort her, nothing worked and she just screamed and screamed.
"What's wrong Ella, baby?" Monica tried, shaking her into reality, but she didn't say anything back just carried on screaming and beating at the snow. Monica was confused and distraught herself, and all she could think about was what Chandler would do if he were here, and that was when she remembered it.
"Hey, Ella baby, lets go inside and play a game, I got a present inside for you" Monica said, rubbing her daughters back. Miraculously the girl ceased crying and slowly nodded her head and followed her mother inside.
"Wait there ok sweetie, I'll just go and get it for you" she said seating her daughter on the couch and going into her bedroom to get it. She rummaged through the draw until she found what she was looking for.
"Here" She said placing it in her daughter's hand "You're Daddy asked me to give you this"
Ella opened her hand and looked at the small silver key ring, almost finding some sort of long sought after comfort in it.
She looked up at her mother, hesitating as she said it; it seemed to be 'that thing' that always upset her mother.
"Where did my Daddy go? Did he not love me?" She asked.
"Oh, no baby, he loved you very much, but right before you were born he was in an accident and had to go to heaven" trying to explain it in terms that a six-year-old could understand.
Ella just slowly nodded her head, staring at the key ring the whole time. "Is he gonna come back?" she asked.
"No, baby, when people go to heaven they never come back again" Monica said sadly, holding back her own tears. She remembered what she had promised Chandler, and touched her daughters face forcing her to look up at her mother. "Want me to tell you all about him?" she asked. The little girl nodded her head, as Monica brought out photos and went on telling her stories about him, and everything she knew about him. She knew Ella probably wouldn't understand much, but even if she didn't it made her do something Monica hadn't seen her do for a long time. She smiled. Monica had never really ventured on the issue of Chandler before, always dismissing it as too painful for herself, but now she was there talking about him, and momentarily the pain was lifted, and that was what probably made Ella feel a bit better for it too.
It wasn't that she loved her, she did with all her heart, but it was never how she imagined. She couldn't look at her without feeling that jolt of pain, because there was so much of him in her. She'd never got over it, she hadn't really expected to but she'd never planned on it being this hard. She knew it wasn't good for her, good for either of them, but she couldn't ever see it getting better. She felt guilty for everything, and every time she looked at the little girl it bought it all back, she was the reason his face showed that expression that she had never wanted to see, that she never wanted to see again, and subconsciously she blamed both of them, she needed to blame someone, and that was why she couldn't give her everything she wanted, that was why she didn't love her as much as she wanted to. He was supposed to be there, to share it, to help her, to hold her and tell her it would be ok, but he wasn't, and he wasn't ever going to be.
Ella was different from other children, she didn't have anyone to turn to, it was just her and her mummy, and that was the way it always had been. Her mother was always miserable and sometimes she could still hear her crying through the bedroom wall, and that upset her more than anything. She had problems, she didn't fit in anywhere, and she was quiet, almost a recluse, apart from the tantrums. She was six years old and didn't understand everything and that just made it worse, Monica knew she was different and that just made the pain much worse, knowing a lot of it was her fault, she couldn't deal with that on top of everything else, and although she tried as hard there was something deep inside of her always holding her back. No one was around to understand, and that one person who probably could, wasn't there anymore.
Monica stood watching her playing out in the snow alone. Ella was building a snowman, all by herself, that's how everything was done, alone. Monica couldn't help but let tears roll down her face; everything was exactly how he used to do it, the same mannerisms everything. It was killing her, but she didn't realise just how much it was hurting her daughter at the same time.
Monica opened the door and went out to join her daughter.
"Wow that's a great snowman Ella, what's he called?" She said, trying to sound as cheerful as possible.
"Tree-bore" Ella stated
"That's an unusual name" Monica replied
"He told me that was his name" Ella said, matter-of -factly.
Monica shrugged it off a normal six-year-old activity but something deep down knew that there was something stranger about it. Monica walked back inside; clearly her presence was not welcomed by the girl and her snowman, and continued watching her from the inside. Monica watched as her daughter put the finishing touches on her snowman, and then suddenly started beating and kicking it to the ground until its former human self became just a lump of snow in the garden. Ella was screaming at the snowman and tears were streaming down her face. Monica felt a shiver up her spine, not from the chilly winter air, but from that deep down subconscious feeling which rose up, and the realisation of just how disturbed her daughter was drove straight into her heart.
Monica ran outside and tried to comfort her, nothing worked and she just screamed and screamed.
"What's wrong Ella, baby?" Monica tried, shaking her into reality, but she didn't say anything back just carried on screaming and beating at the snow. Monica was confused and distraught herself, and all she could think about was what Chandler would do if he were here, and that was when she remembered it.
"Hey, Ella baby, lets go inside and play a game, I got a present inside for you" Monica said, rubbing her daughters back. Miraculously the girl ceased crying and slowly nodded her head and followed her mother inside.
"Wait there ok sweetie, I'll just go and get it for you" she said seating her daughter on the couch and going into her bedroom to get it. She rummaged through the draw until she found what she was looking for.
"Here" She said placing it in her daughter's hand "You're Daddy asked me to give you this"
Ella opened her hand and looked at the small silver key ring, almost finding some sort of long sought after comfort in it.
She looked up at her mother, hesitating as she said it; it seemed to be 'that thing' that always upset her mother.
"Where did my Daddy go? Did he not love me?" She asked.
"Oh, no baby, he loved you very much, but right before you were born he was in an accident and had to go to heaven" trying to explain it in terms that a six-year-old could understand.
Ella just slowly nodded her head, staring at the key ring the whole time. "Is he gonna come back?" she asked.
"No, baby, when people go to heaven they never come back again" Monica said sadly, holding back her own tears. She remembered what she had promised Chandler, and touched her daughters face forcing her to look up at her mother. "Want me to tell you all about him?" she asked. The little girl nodded her head, as Monica brought out photos and went on telling her stories about him, and everything she knew about him. She knew Ella probably wouldn't understand much, but even if she didn't it made her do something Monica hadn't seen her do for a long time. She smiled. Monica had never really ventured on the issue of Chandler before, always dismissing it as too painful for herself, but now she was there talking about him, and momentarily the pain was lifted, and that was what probably made Ella feel a bit better for it too.