Disclaimer:This is a work of fiction. The characters in this story are borrowed from the TV show "Friends". I own no characters. No money is being made from this story. Any resemblance of a character in this story to any real person living or dead is purely coincidental. Likewise, any resemblance between an organisation depicted in this story and any such actual organisation is purely coincidental.

Authors note: I know stories like this have been done before and it is similar to many of my other stories but I hope you enjoy it. Please R/R. It is set in about Season 2, however I am not sure whether Rachel and Ross are together or not. I will see how it progresses later on.

CHANDLERS POV

Here I am again. In the same old kitchen, in the same old apartment, thinking the same old things. It's just like college. But this time no one can save me. Not even Joey.

Joey. Hmm. My best friend. He always made me laugh. Not even he can do that now. No one can. No one realises what it is like. My mother would rather be off fucking the pool guy then see me, my father is a cross dresser. I have no brothers or sisters like the others. I mean, Monica has Ross, Joey has well, a 7 of them, Rachel has Jill and even Phoebe has Ursula if she gets desperate. I'm desperate.

All my memories are coming back. After so long of blocking them out. So long. Their all coming back. One's I know happened but don't want to remember. I see my father come into the room. I see him lock the door behind him, and ask me if i am going to be a good boy tonight. I say yes, as usual. He takes off his shirt and unbuckles his belt. I close my eyes and wait for the inevitable to happen. For him to come over and fuck me. That's right. My father, fucking his only son.

Tears start to stream down my face as I remember the pain of that night. That wasn't the only night. There were countless others. Nights that I couldn't tell anyone about. No one would understand. No one. Joey always wondered why I hated being touched, and why I have trouble getting close with people and trusting them. He'll know soon. They'll all know soon.

I watch my hand as it picks up the carving knife on the bench. I don't know what I am doing. I know but at the same time I don't know. I watch myself slash it across my wrist. I watch the blood come out. Suddenly I feel better, for a short while. The pain dulls my thoughts and feelings. I slash it across a few other times. I feel so alive while I am doing this. I slowly put pressure on my cuts and start to clean up the mess I have made. Joey will be home soon.

SO WHAT DO YOU THINK? ANOTHER CHAPTER?