AN: This fic takes place in the 1800's. Monica's mom died giving birth to her, so Judy isn't in this story. Jack's a little nicer also in my story. Any way, please review.
Papa always says you make your own luck.
I find that hard to believe after being seasick for four months, three weeks, and seven days. I was certain that luck had nothing to do with anything when you're aboard the Lady Luck; a poorly named ship if ever there was one.
It was my sixteenth birthday and I had just spent last night and this morning puking into a bucket. I felt as though I was the unluckiest girl alive.
I haven't always felt this way though. When I was a little girl, around eleven years old, I always thought I was so lucky. I would lie on my bed and pretend I was on a ship sailing to some place magnificent. I would sail all the way there and back. I had quite and imagination.
In the mornings, when I would wake up, Papa would always yell to me, "Where's my favorite daughter?" and I would come running over to him and yell right back, "She's right here, and I'm your only daughter!"
Papa was the town's best doctor. Sometimes he would take my brother Ross and I on his rounds with him. I always felt proud when he would ask me to hold something for him.
My mother died giving birth to me, so it's always only been Papa, Ross, and I. I don't mind though. I like living with two boys.
I was the luckiest girl ever.
It's pretty hard not to be with Mrs. Tribbiani's apple pie. She made the best apple pie ever. It was always a special treat when she made some. She was our housekeeper.
Then my luck changed. This is how it began.
Joey, Mrs. Tribbiani's son, was my best friend growing up. He Ross and I hung out all the time. Joey taught me how to do many useful things such as throwing clumps of manure at passing carriages, how to tease Mr. Riley's dog without being bitten, and how to spit. I was the best spitter in town. Even better than Ross and Joey.
One day Ross, Joey, and I were throwing apples at the big old tree in the Green's yard. Just as the apple left my hand, Rachel Green walked out of her house.
Rachel Green was the exact opposite of me. She was perfect in every way. She had pretty long blonde hair and was as skinny as a pole.
Time seemed to stand still as my apple completely missed the tree and hit Rachel right in the stomach of her dress.
She let out an ear-shattering scream and looked our way.
"Monica Geller." She hissed.
And that was the beginning of my bad luck.
Five years later I was sailing aboard a ship called Lady Luck and it seemed as though I would never escape my bad luck.
I never expected to spend my sixteenth birthday puking all day on a horrible little ship. Whenever I imagined my sixteenth party, I always pictured tea with the girls in long flowing beautiful gowns. Maybe even one of Mrs. Tribbiani's apple pies.
I did not, however, picture myself on board a dirty, little ship in a small, airless cabin with a hard bunk, and a rickety table and chairs.
When we first started sailing I had decided to spice the room up a little by putting a linen table cloth on the table, set out embroidered cushions on the chairs, laid out new china, put a crystal vase on a small shelf, and hung a mirror on the wall.
The first night sailing we sailed into a storm. You can imagine the mess. There was glass everywhere, the cushions were thrown around the room, and the tablecloth wasn't on the table.
The mirror that had broken had seemed to be a bad omen. My roommate, Phoebe, hung up a paper in place of the mirror, which said Days Left at Sea.
I lay in my bunk miserable. "I bet Rachel Green didn't spend her sixteenth birthday puking in a bucket."
Since the day my apple hit Rachel Green's stomach, she had it out to torment me. One day Joey, Ross, and I were throwing manure at carriages. Rachel and some of her friends came over to us.
"I don't see why you always hang out with dirty boys." Rachel said. "It's no wonder Mr. Geller hasn't remarried. No woman in her right mind would marry into her family. They wouldn't want to deal with a dirty girl like Monica."
"Leave her alone." Ross said sticking up for me.
I wasn't even listening anymore. Was that true? I remembered all the times I had come home all dirty, tracking mud into the house and Papa shaking his head. Was he ashamed of me?
"My Papa loved my mother and will never care about another woman!" I blurted out real fast before I could even think about what I was saying.
"Well then, he must not love you very much, after all, you are the reason she's dead." Rachel said smoothly.
I stepped back literally as if I was punched.
Rachel's friends laughed at what Rachel had said.
I wasn't even listening anymore. I felt tears spring to my eyes as I turned and ran.
TBC. Please review if ya like it!