Chapter Ten
Monica walked into an empty apartment. She looked around, yelling for Chandler. He wasn't there for her. Still, she looked into his bedroom, finding it empty, deserted. For an unknown reason, tears sprung to her eyes. She staggered around, looking for some comfort. Her friends weren't there, either. She walked over to the window, watching the rain pour down. Then she sighed and walked over to the kitchen. When she opened the fridge, nothing was in there. She opened her drawers, but they were also empty. The only thing left on the counter was a knife. A solid, cold, metal knife.
No one was there to tell her not to do it. She was alone, so no one could've told her that she was loved. No one was there, so no one cared. No one was there to tell her not to do it.
Monica picked up the knife and began slitting herself.
No one was there.
* * *
She lie there on the hospital bed, motionless.
No one was there.
It was a dark room, a cold room. Cuts were all over her face and body, bleeding eternally. She wasn't breathing by herself, but with an air mask. A monitor above her head with a green zigzagging line indicated that she was holding in.
She didn't know what was going on.
She was so helpless, lying there on the bed with no control over her own life. She couldn't help herself. It was up to fate, but fate wasn't too promising. She was, in fact, lying there in the first place.
No one could help her.
The pain built up inside of her, and in an instant, all of the pain vanished.
The monitor's zigzagged line slowed down, then came to a complete stop. It gave a loud, piercing beep.
She died.
Chandler's eyes shot open. He was still seated in the plastic seat with his hands covering Monica's. Instantly every image in the room became blurry. His head ached and his eyes burned with fear. Beads of sweat poured down his face and neck. His heart beat way too fast for its own good, and he was trembling. It took him a few minutes to clears his visions. When he could see again, he shot his eyes toward the monitor.
The green line was still zigzagging in a steady motion.
Chandler began to calm down, sitting back into his chair and slowly breathing in and out. He ran his fingers through his hair. After some time, he stopped trembling and his heart beat normally. The sweat dried and his eyes saddened instead of being afraid. His head still ached, but he looked at Monica and frowned.
"You're doing great, Mon." He shook his head and looked away from her. "You scared me there for a second."
When he was completely calmed again, Chandler sighed and put his other hand back with Monica's. He stroked it gently, his eyes not leaving their hands. He continued to stroke her hands, to stare at their hands held together. He looked back at Monica and an image appeared to him. This time the image enlightened him. He smiled lightly.
"Remember when your Porsche broke down in the middle of nowhere?" Chandler muttered, forgetting his dream. He let a small laugh escape. "We were going to LA, we were on a road trip for the first time without the others. Remember? We lost our way about three hours into the trip." Chandler opened the palms of Monica's hand and intertwined his fingers with hers. He smiled. "We were some adventurers, huh? We were lost the entire trip, but we had the time of our lives. We had to sleep in your car since there were no motels or hotels around. I loved it; I got to sleep with my arms around you. When I woke up, I got to wake up beside you." Chandler looked up at Monica, trying to look into her eyes, despite the fact that they were closed. "We can do that again, Mon. Maybe we'll even make it to LA this time." He laughed again.
"We never let anything stop us before. This won't stop us… this is just a setback. Don't let this be the thing to break us. Nothing's stopped us before." Chandler shook his head, ready for the tears to come. He hung his head down, avoiding the rush of fear that came to him when he thought of life without Monica. "Don't you dare let this break us."
"Mr. Bing? We need to run some tests… can you please leave the room?" a doctor asked as he walked into the room. Chandler rolled his eyes. He looked at Monica one last time.
"Looks like they're throwing me out, Mon. Well, I'll see you soon, beautiful." He softly kissed her hand and smiled. "Sweet dreams."
He walked out of the room and sat down in a hard, plastic seat next to Phoebe, Joey, and Ross. He put his hand to his head and rubbed his forehead.
"How is she?" Ross asked. Chandler shook his head.
"She doesn't look too great. But she'll be better soon, I know it."
"We don't know that, Chandler," Phoebe whispered gently. Chandler looked at them and stood up.
"What, is it like you want her to die?" Chandler said, staring at them accusingly. He looked from them to Monica's door.
"No, but we're in reality!" Ross snapped, also standing up. By the time Phoebe and Joey stood up, Chandler was backing away.
"What reality? Nothing's real anymore! But all I know is Monica's going to be fine! She's been a fighter for all of her life, why should she stop now?" Chandler's voice was raising. "Nothing's wrong with her!"
Ross's expression softened. "Chandler, you're in denial," he whispered shaking his head.
"What are you talking about? I'm not denying anything, okay? I just have a little bit faith in Monica, unlike you!" Chandler shook his head and went into her room, ignoring the doctor's orders. He walked over to Monica and stroked her hair, ignoring the doctor altogether.
"You're going to be okay, aren't you?" he whispered. He shook his head. "You're just a little bit hurt, but soon you'll be better. They just have such little faith. I believe in you, Mon."
He looked at the monitor above her head. He looked at her cuts all over her body. He looked at the machines hooked up to her. "You'll be okay," he murmured.
Then he looked at her deep cut near her heart.
"Won't you?"
* * *
A swirl of pain and confusion hung around her, wrapping her. She didn't know what was happening… or where she even was. She heard distant voices, but it was as if they were coming from the other end of a tunnel. She stirred, but not one bone in her body moved. Her arms were on fire, and her chest was burning up.
She wanted it to stop.
She wanted to be in Chandler's arms.
She wanted this nightmare to be over.
* * *
"I need to get some fresh air," Chandler said, standing up from the chair. The other three just nodded, so Chandler walked over to the glass doors and pushed them open. He took a glance back and noticed how full the ER seemed. He slowly shook his head and walked outside.
It was a beautiful day. With not a cloud in the sky, the blazing sun shone. Birds hung on the limbs of trees, and only a slight breeze cooled Chandler. It was a beautiful day… for the rest of the world, anyway.
Chandler walked along the side of the hospital's walls and ran his finger along the bricks. He stopped and leaned his back against the wall. He looked up at the sky with tears in his eyes.
"I had that one person that made me happier than anyone else in the entire world. I had her," he said, trying to control the rush of tears. He shut his eyes tightly and pounded his fist to the wall. "I had her, and I'm losing her."
He opened his eyes and stared at the sky. All of a sudden, Chandler began to feel queasy. He put his hand to his forehead and sighed. Chandler slowly walked back into the ER and sat down in the plastic chair. Since his hand was still to his head, the other three looked at him worriedly.
"What's wrong?" Phoebe asked. Chandler looked at her and took his hand away from his head.
"I just don't feel too great," he replied. Ross looked at him, his eyes morose.
"What hurts?" he asked. Chandler sighed and looked down to the floor.
"My heart."
* * *
"I'm sorry… we did everything we could," the doctor began. "We couldn't save her. She – she died last night."
Chandler took a glance at the family that began to break down as the doctor said this. He sighed.
"But she was only sixteen!"
Chandler shuddered. So young…
"We tried! The cuts were too deep, too fatal." The doctor's voice was ignorant to Chandler. The cuts were too deep… would that happen to Monica?
"Don't you even care? Is this just another job for you?" one of the men yelled at the doctor, also breaking down in tears. Chandler shuddered and walked out of the ER. He walked along the hospital, looking through the windows of the doors. Some people were sleeping peacefully, some were being operated. But not one was near death.
Monica was.
Chandler trembled and ran out of the hospital. He wanted it all to go away – the pain, the heartache, the fear. He wanted Monica to be okay, to be just fine.
She wasn't.
When Chandler reached the outside of the building, he collapsed onto the cool grass under a tree. Chandler hugged himself and let the tears fall freely for the first time.
"Don't leave me, Mon," he murmured, looking up at the sky. "Everything you are is everything to me. And there are still so many things I want to say to you." Chandler brushed off a butterfly that landed on his shoulder. "Like… how until I met you, I never knew what it was like to look at someone and smile for no reason."
Before Chandler began to walk back to the hospital, dark clouds came in, covering the sky. He shook his head as he opened the door to the ER.
His life used to be sunny. He had a job… not one he liked, but one he was paid a lot for. He had a great apartment. He had Ross, Joey, and Phoebe… great friends he couldn't imagine not having. And he had Monica, the most important person in his life. They told secrets, gossip, they took trips together, they laughed, they talked, they told what they felt about people and the world around them. He would wake up, then when he opened the door from his room he'd see Monica, usually starting breakfast. He'd walk over to her and hug her, and then they'd being talking. Life may not have been perfect, but he had Monica.
Now his life was gray, cloudy. He had no where to turn for comfort since Monica was always the only comfort he ever needed. He couldn't run away from it since wherever he was, Monica would still be in danger. He couldn't do anything to help the one person that ever understood him. He could just wait.
When Chandler saw that no one was near Monica's door, he collapsed onto his knees and awkwardly folded his hands together. He looked up at the ceiling and let out a quivery sigh.
"God… help her. Don't take her away from me… it's not fair. She shouldn't be going through this; she's such a perfect person. Why did you do this to her? Why not me? Why not the next person up in line for death? Why her? She can't be leaving me!" People began to glance at Chandler, but he shrugged off their hard looks. "I knew you'd be mad that I had one of your angels. I knew it, but you don't have to take her back. Let her stay, let her live." Chandler bowed down his head and continued. "Monica doesn't know how much we care about her, God. She doesn't know. Let me tell her, let her know. Let her die an old lady, safe in my arms. Please. I'll do anything for a miracle. Anything. I'll – I'll quit smoking in a day. I'll become a priest. You name it, I'll do it for her. Don't let her die. She deserves so much more than she got out of life," he whispered. People looked at him, sadly staring. Chandler could tell people felt sorry for him. But that wasn't what he wanted… he didn't want people feeling sorry for him. Why should they? He wasn't the one stuck at a bottomless pit. He wasn't the one suffering. He wasn't the one that felt unloved.
Chandler stood from the floor and fell onto the chair, burying his face in his hands. He shook his head, his hands still covering his face.
"Miracles don't happen."
Chandler looked up. Standing before him was a broad, tall man.
"Excuse me?" Chandler said, looking at him with a hard gaze. The man shrugged his shoulders and sighed.
"They don't happen." The man sat down next to Chandler and looked ahead. Chandler ran his fingers through his hair.
"Why would you say that?" Chandler asked, his voice low.
"I asked for a miracle. God didn't listen. Either He didn't hear or He doesn't want to."
"What happened to you?"
"My daughter died."
Chandler's gaze averted to the floor. He stayed silent for a few minutes.
"How… how old was she?"
"Sixteen."
Chandler looked at the man. "How did she die?"
"She got killed. Well, someone tried to stab her to death. She was still alive when we brought her here, but she just died." The man looked at Chandler. "I asked for a miracle, too."
"Yeah, well maybe not enough," Chandler replied. He looked at his hands. Around him, people began to look at him and the man and listen to their conversation. Chandler didn't notice.
"I prayed every night. My daughter died because of someone else. At least she knew she was loved. I hope." The man paused, but continued. "Who are you asking a miracle for?"
"My best friend," Chandler whispered. The man looked at Chandler once more.
"Hey, that's not as bad. You can always make new friends. Maybe better ones."
Chandler glared at the man. "No. No, I can't. No one could ever replace her. If she dies, I die. I mean… how are you supposed to live when the other part of your heart dies?" Chandler's voice broke, and tears began to descend from his face.
"You only think that now. You'll get over it." The man smiled comfortingly.
"You never met Monica."
To Be Continued…
I know this took the LONGEST time to post! I'm so sorry you had to wait so long, and thanks for being patient ;). The next part will hopefully be up sooner… and I hope this chapter wasn't too short or too bad. Want to read more? Let me know! I won't put up the next chapter until I'm sure a few people want to read it. If you liked it, let me know. If you hated it, let me know. Tell me what you thought of it! And again… sorry it took forever to update. The next one will be sooner… I hope. I've still been very busy. But who knows… if I have enough reviews, maybe I'll make the time ;)
