Sick~Chapter 7

Snow day! A-whoo-hoo! And I give up on finding songs, cuz it's too hard, so yeah… Okay, please read and review, thanks!

Disclaimer: If I had a million dollars, if I had a million dollars I would buy you…well not the Friends characters cuz they're worth a hell of a lot more than that. Translation: I don't own 'em.

          "Oh my God, Monica," Julia sighed, "I can't stand being here anymore!"

"I know."

"I should be out there, making movies and all that."

"I know, sweetie."

"It's not fair. I feel so…"

"Helpless?"

"Yeah."

"I know. So do I."

"That's it, I'm leaving," Julia stated forcefully.

"What? Julia...no."

However, Julia didn't listen to Monica's warning. She began walking down the corridor towards the doors.

"Miss, where are you going?" One of the orderlies questioned her.

"Out." With that, she kicked the man in the crotch, sending the huge man down onto the ground.

After that, three more orderlies grabbed Julia, and dragged her away from the doors.

          Monica watched the site in front of her in silent horror. Now she heard the shrieks of her friend as she fought to be freed from the strong grip of the orderlies.

"I don't belong here! I'm famous!" She screamed, still trying to escape.

They had put her in a straight jacket only moments before, and were moving her to a higher security building.

"Please don't take her, too," Monica whispered.

However, nobody heard her plea and she watched as Julia was dragged away. Her last friend; the final shred of normality life was gone. However, Monica couldn't cry. She was all cried out due to her other losses. This was just icing on the cake that was her life.

*~*~*~*~*

          "Now Mrs. Bing," Dr. Stein began at their fifth therapy session, "The thing that you have to try to do is to get over the past…"

"I've tried that! I know that I have to do that, I just…I can't."

"That's where I come in."

"But what if I don't want to get over my past?"

"Excuse me?"

"If I get over the past, I'm losing the only thing I have left of it—memories."

"No, no. I don't mean it like that. What I mean is that you have to learn to forgive and to accept your fate."

"Why?"

"So you can lead a relatively normal life again."

Monica nodded. "So how do I do this?"

"Well, the first step is to talk about it. Tell me what happened after you found out you lost Chandler. Tell me how you ended up here. Every little detail—no matter how big or small—is important."

"I don't know if I can…"

"You can."

Monica took in a shaky breath and looked into the doctor's reassuring eyes. "Okay."

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          After the officer gave me the bad news, I was aware of my friends around me. They were all wearing the same pale, tear-stained faces. Still, it didn't feel real.

"No," I whispered after not speaking for a good, two hours.

My brother turned to me and bit his lip. "Sweetie…"

"He's not dead."

"Mon," my good friend Rachel turned to me, "It seems to be the only explanation."

"No, no! He'll walk through that door! And he'll tell us that someone robbed him! That's all."

"Miss," the police officer turned to me, "The chances of that are very slim."

"But they are possible?" My friend Phoebe chimed in.

"Well…I highly doubt it, but we're not ruling it out."

"He's not dead."

"Mon, why don't you go get some sleep?"

"No. Not until Chandler comes back."

"We're doing all we can to investigate this, however, it may take a while. Days, months, or even years, perhaps. There are even some murder cases that are…"

"He's not dead! It's not a murder case."

"Well, considering our evidence, we have to treat it as if it were one."

"He's not dead."

"Mon…"

"He's not dead!" I screeched and ran into my room.

Weeks went by, and Chandler still didn't come home. His family and my friends decided that he was truly dead. They made him a memorial service. I didn't want to go, but Phoebe convinced me.

"Mon, just go. I think it'll be good for you."

"How?! How can it possibly be good for me to go?"

"Closure," she said simply.

I contemplated this for a while. "You're right."

"And Mon?"

"Yeah?"

"I still don't believe he's dead."

I smiled at Phoebe. She was the only one who felt the same way as me. "Thanks."

          However, once I came to the memorial service, I found myself wishing that I hadn't gone. I felt no closure. I mean his body wasn't even there. He was still walking around somewhere, probably hurting and in fear. Yet, there I was, enduring sympathetic hugs and looks of pity. I didn't want their pity. And the worst thing of all was that my mother tried to comfort me. In all of the years of my life, I never felt that my mother cared about. However, once she showed me that she did, I didn't care about her. All I wanted was to be in the arms of the man I loved. Then, the worst part, were the eulogies. His mother and my brother Ross spoke. Both spoke in the past tense and it was torture to hear it. I still believed he was alive!

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"Do you still believe he's alive now?"

Monica looked away shamefully. "Yeah. It's crazy, I know, but I mean…look where I am."

"I don't think it's crazy. I don't think that you're crazy. I think that you're depressed. There's a difference."

"Yeah, well apparently, I am crazy because of the…well…"

"Yeah."

"I don't really want to talk about that now," Monica looked away shamefully.

"I understand." Dr. Stein paused. "Could you tell me what happened to the rest of your friends?"

"Umm…yeah. After the memorial service, my friends tried to go back to living normal lives. However, I refused to do anything with them. Also, whenever they were together without and me, and especially without Chandler, they began to see that nothing could be the same again. Finally, one of our friends, Joey, couldn't take it anymore. He moved away to Los Angeles, hoping to start a new life in Hollywood. That was the last straw for our group of friends. Not long after that, Phoebe moved to Africa for a few years, leaving just my brother and Rachel. Rachel and Ross leaned on each other for support, and ended up starting a relationship, again. This time, however, their relationship was successful. But, there was still the problem of myself. They didn't know how to handle me."

"A lot of times that happens. It's very painful to see someone you love suffer and often people don't know what to do."

Monica just shrugged in response.

 Dr. Stein noticed Monica's discomfort and glanced at her watch. "Okay, our session is almost over now, but I think we've made a lot of progress, Mrs. Bing. I'm proud of you. There's just one more thing."

"Yeah?"

"I heard that your friend…was taken away. How are you handling that?"

Monica thought about it for a few moments before answering. "I don't know. I mean it's just…I was upset, but now I feel sort of apathetic. I mean I've lost everyone else in my life, so why not her, too?"

Dr. Stein looked Monica straight in the eyes and saw her sadness. For the first time as a psychiatrist, she did not know what to tell her patient.

Ok, please read and review, thanks! :o)