Chapter Fourteen
Riding along the city in a cab, Monica sat up and stared at her wrists. Covering her two cuts were bandages – two tight, uncomfortable, imprisoning bandages. Across her chest, where the biggest cut lay, was another bandage that wrapped around her.
Now, Monica would have to watch every step she took. She couldn't bump into anything, because she'd start bleeding. She'd have to take two shots – one in the morning, one in the evening – to prevent a growing infection each day. She'd have to sleep on her back every night – something she despised. People would stare at her, at her wrists, at her cuts… and she couldn't do anything about that, either. She wouldn't be living anymore.
"Monica? Are you okay?" Joey asked, interrupting her thoughts. Monica looked away from the window and into Joey's eyes. She just looked at him for a few minutes, her mind lost.
"Mon?" he repeated, frowning. Monica shook her head.
"N – nothing. Just thinking," she merely replied. Joey looked at her and put his arm around her shoulders.
"About what?" he asked, hugging her. Monica shrugged, looking at the car seat in front of her. She shook her head, her eyes dismal.
"Life." Monica turned her gaze out the window and watched the buildings stay behind as the cab rapidly moved on. Up above, birds soared through the air and clouds hung over the sky, creating a sheet of darkness. Rain was held up in the gray clouds, ready to pour down.
"What about it?" Joey's voice was soft, caring. Monica couldn't help but picture Joey as Chandler. Chandler was the one that used to always comfort her, help her. And although Joey was one of the best friends she could ask for, Chandler was so much more. Chandler was the first and only person she ever truly, deeply loved… the only person she would die for.
"No, I hate him," Monica quickly said, forgetting Joey was next to her. Joey looked at her but decided against commenting.
Monica leaned back and shut her eyes, confused about more than one thing. But when her eyelids were fully closed, all she saw was Chandler. Briskly, she opened her eyes, looking around. Joey still had his arm around her, but was looking out the other window. Phoebe sat by the other window, her eyes closed.
So, Monica stared out the window, looking up toward the heavens as if waiting for an answer.
She didn't get one.
I hate you… I love you
I just can't remember to forget you.
Who are you… who needs you?
You make me feel alive, I die, so high
I'm crawling on the ground and
I've found I can't fly.
* * *
When the cab reached the apartment building, Monica looked up in awe. Now, the building seemed like a skyscraper to her. People hustled around her, pushing their way around. Monica, Joey, Phoebe, and Ross walked over to the door, but Monica stopped. She turned around and looked from building to building, half of a smile on her face.
"It's good to be free," Monica said, closing her eyes. Her friends looked at her sadly. Ross walked over to her and put his arm around her.
"It's good to have you back," he whispered. Monica opened her eyes, shaking her head.
"I'm not back yet," she replied. She looked around at the people around her and noticed a child staring at her. She smiled, trying to be polite. But the child merely looked at her.
"Mommy, what's wrong with that lady?" the child asked, pointing to Monica. "She's bleeding."
Monica saw the mom turn around and look at her, then take her child's hand and walk away. Monica sighed, tears in her eyes.
"I'm a freak," she muttered, turning towards the door and walking in. Everyone followed her, trying to console her, but she shrugged them all off.
When she reached her apartment, she took out her key and opened the door. She entered the apartment and looked around. Everything seemed so different to her, so deviant. Everything was put in the exact same place, and the place was clean, but in the kitchen, a red stain was visible from the blood. The kitchen was empty, with no glasses or plates. And worst of all, it didn't have the cheery, homely feeling that it used to hold. Now it was just an apartment, not a home.
Then, Chandler's door opened, and Monica froze. When he saw her, he quickly walked over to her.
"Look, Monica, I-"
Monica glared at him and walked straight to her room, slamming the door behind her without a word. She fell onto her bed and sighed, staring up at the ceiling. She felt a tug at her heart when seeing Chandler again… but she wasn't too sure about what it was. Was it hate… or was it love?
Monica carefully sat up in her bed and walked over to her window. Outside, thousands of people walked around, shopping, sightseeing, working – living. But none of that was possible for Monica anymore. Her life was shattered, gone. She lived, her body lived… but her spirit, her soul… it all died. It all left her, like water sucked into a pipe. Chandler betrayed her and their friendship… what was left for her? What was left for life? She looked away from the window and walked over to her closet. She slowly opened the doors and looked around.
Nothing in there looked the same. Clothes were strewn upon the floor of the closet, and coats hung from their hangers. Monica had barely changed, but when she did, she just grabbed something from the closet. Shoes didn't sit next to their other pair, and magazines, books, sheets, and piles of pictures covered the floor. Monica slowly knelt down and rummaged through the pictures. Almost every picture was of her and Chandler… hugging, laughing, smiling. Monica's eyes watered as she remembered the good times, the simple times. Then, she had no worries, no fears, no doubts… not around Chandler. But now, he hurt her… he hurt her, even when he promised he never would.
Suddenly, Monica's eyes narrowed. She looked at the picture she was holding and tore it in half, separating her from Chandler. She looked at the two pieces of the picture and let out a quivery sigh.
"Monica, can I come in?" Phoebe's voice said from the other side of the door. Monica slowly stood up and threw the pieces to the floor. She walked over to the door and leaned against it.
"Is it only you?" Monica asked, her head resting on the door.
"It's only me," Phoebe assured. Monica sighed and opened the door, standing to the side to let Phoebe in. Phoebe walked passed Monica and sat on her bed. "Come here."
Monica closed the door behind her and sat on the bed next to Phoebe. "Yeah?" Monica shifted her weight, looking from Phoebe to her hands.
"I – just wanted to talk," she replied. Phoebe's eyes wandered around the room, then unto the open closet. "Are you cleaning?" Phoebe stood up and walked over to the closet. Monica followed, cautiously kneeling beside her friend.
"N – no. I was just looking at some pictures," Monica muttered, picking up a picture of her and Ross as children. She sighed, throwing it aside. She straightened her knees and sat on the floor, taking a handful of pictures.
"You sure do stock up on these things, huh?" Phoebe said with a smile. Monica gave her a half smile, her eyes glued to her hands.
"You never know when you need a memory to keep yourself from feeling completely isolated." She took her eyes away from her hands and looked at Phoebe, her eyes dismal. She noticed Phoebe picking up her ripped picture and looked away.
"What's this?" Phoebe questioned, holding up the two parts of the photo.
Monica stood up, the pictures still in her hands, and walked over to the window. "Nothing."
Phoebe stood up and followed Monica, the picture in her hands. "Why – why did you tear this apart?"
Monica's eyes returned Phoebe's gaze. "He ruined my life. First, he's the best friend I could ever have. Next, he's a lying, cold person that betrayed me. I used to know Chandler from top to bottom… and now, I don't know him at all." Monica held her pictures higher and threw them all out the window. She watched them fall down onto the street and sidewalks of New York, out of her reach. They were no longer hers… now, they belonged to the city.
"I loved Chandler. He was the best guy I knew, the best guy I'd ever know." Monica paused and took the pieces from Phoebe's hand. She put the picture together so that Chandler and Monica were holding hands again and laid it on the windowsill. "Then, he had a dream about his soulmate. I believed in him, and I went out to look for her with him. I watched my best friend chase the woman of his dreams. The only problem was… it wasn't me. But I still loved him, we were still inseparable, still best friends." Monica kept the picture together, then slowly moved the pieces apart. "Then he grew to love her, and she grew to love him. My job was done… so I returned to New York. He didn't follow me, he didn't return… he didn't even call." Monica held the pieces away now, her eyes full with tears. "I waited… I waited for a call, a message, a letter… anything. But I didn't get it. I sent him ten red roses… one for each year we were best friends. I grew to miss him more than anything. I didn't eat, I didn't sleep, I didn't do anything. Then, I tried to kill myself." Monica glanced out the window once more, tears rapidly falling.
"Why?" Phoebe whispered, looking at Monica. Monica looked into Phoebe's eyes.
"Because I had nothing to live for," she said, her voice low. She pushed the two pieces off of the windowsill and watched them fall. "My life was gone. I fell into a bottomless pit, never to be found again."
Phoebe moved closer to Monica and took her hands. "Sweetie… you – you had us. We could have helped you."
"But it wouldn't have been the same!" Monica cried. "You guys… are the best friends I can ask for. But Chandler… Chandler was my rock." She walked away from the window and fell onto the bed once more, her back to the bed. Phoebe followed, sitting beside her.
"I- I understand," Phoebe muttered, taking her hand. "We all understand."
Monica closed her eyes. "Y- you can never understand."
It's simple… confusing
The truth is, I'm winning but I'm losing
And pulling and pushing won't do me any good
It could, it should
I'm honest to myself that, the truth is… I lied
* * *
The air was cool and crisp, with stars twinkling above. It was a perfect night, a still night. The only sound breaking the silence was the constant rush of cars passing by. People scattered around, going this way and that. Couples held hands, children ran behind their mothers. Buildings glittered in the city's light, and a slight breeze rippled by.
"The night is just an illusion. Inside, people are hurting, dying," Chandler whispered to himself, sitting on the edge of his windowsill. "Nothing's perfect… and never can a night be perfect."
Chandler suddenly heard a child crying and raised his head. "See, God? See what you're doing to the world? You're ruining it. You can stop all of the pain and suffering right now, this instant. But you won't." He took his watch off of his wrist and threw it out the window. "Y'know what, God? I'll give you a deal. Take all of my possessions – everything. But give me Monica back. Make her stop suffering, let her forgive me, let everything be like it used to be – happy." He took a ring off of his finger and threw it out the window. "So? Is it a deal?!" he yelled into the night, looking up toward the heavens. "Help me!" he cried at the top of his lungs.
Suddenly, clouds came into view. The breeze began to quicken, and rain began to pelt down from the clouds. "That's great, God. I guess that gave me my answer," he muttered, standing and shutting the window. Chandler walked over to his bed and collapsed on it. He closed his eyes.
He still was in his clothes. His bed wasn't made. His room was a mess. His hair was a mess. And it was all because of the guilt and suffering that welled up inside of him. He knew he hurt Monica, and it killed him. He'd do anything just so he could take all five months back.
Chandler closed his eyes, feeling the tears come. Never could he take those five months back.
So, he fell asleep, waiting for God's part of the deal to happen.
To Be Continued…
Did you like it? Let me know! Do you want me to continue? Let me know! This chapter kind of came earlier, right? Aren't you proud? :-p Anyway… tell me if you liked it and if I should continue.
