Gone for the Moment - Chapter Seven
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She quickly shook off the feeling of guilt and reached up to gently take his hand in hers, careful not to disrupt the white bandage that hugged his wrist.
The gentle movement woke Chandler from his haze and he turned his head to see what had caused him to be brought out of the peace of unconciousness.
"Mon...yo-you're here," he whispered grogily.
Monica's head snapped up and she quickly began debating whether to stay and talk or bolt from the room and get on the next flight back to Minneapolis.
Where we left off...
"Yea...I am," she replied, her voice becoming just about as hoarse as his. Gently, she set his hand back down on the bed and unconciously slid a few inches away from him in her chair.
"Chandler, we need to talk," Monica said after a few awkward moments of silence.
"Look, Mon," Chandler started, trying to sit up on his elbows. "I'm so, so, so, sorry. I don't want you to think this was your fault."
"But, Chandler, it is my fault. Sure you had some fault in it, but it was mostly me," Monica said sternly and crossed her arms.
Chandler paused and picked at the bed sheet. "Are you mad at me?"
"Yea, I am. You weren't thinking Chandler. You weren't thinking about Jake, or me, or our friends."
"I know, I was stupid. And believe me, I love all of you more than anything in the world," he was sitting up now, with his hands resting in his lap and his head hung low. "But the pain was just too much to take. I tried getting over you, I really did, but nothing worked. Every single thing reminded me, and still does...of you. You're everywhere, Mon," he pleaded as a few tears rolled down his cheeks.
Monica hung her head and rubed her hands over her bare arms. "Chandler, I'm sorry for leaving, and I'm sorry for the pain I'm causing you, but we just don't work. Did you ever think of the pain you'd be causing Jake if you had died? He would have grown up without a Dad, just like you."
"You don't know me," Chandler spat quietly and fiercely, rubbing the tears from his face angrily.
"Yes, Chandler, I do know you. You don't think about how your actions effect other people, you're selfish, you're immature, you're irresponsible, and you just don't think, Chandler. Come talk to me when you've grow up," Monica briskly stood from her chair and walked out of the room before Chandler had a chance to stop her.
"Damnit!" He yelled angrily, slamming his hand down on the bed and accidentally hiting the nurse-call button. He clenched his fists, brought his knees half-way up to his chest, and started sobbing uncontrolably.
A few seconds later a nurse came rushing in the room, "Mr. Bing, do you need som-"
"Get out!" He yelled furiously at the innocent nurse.
"Mr. Bing, please, calm down," the nurse pleaded as he moved to the side of the bed to adjust the drip. Chandler angrily pushed him away, knocking him back a few steps.
"Get out of my room!" He yelled.
A few other nurses and a doctor came rushing into the room. They quickly caught on to what was happening and moved to restrain Chandler. "Mr. Bing, calm down," the doctor ordered sternly, walking out of the room and coming back in a few seconds later with a small bottle and a needle.
"No! Just leave me alone! Please!" Chandler continued to yell and struggle against the strength of the nurses.
"Mr. Bing, you're having a panic attack. If you don't calm yourself down I'm going to have to sedate you," the doctor said in the same tone of voice, holding the loaded seringe and needle in the air.
Chandler's struggles lessened as he started letting out a wail of sreams and cries, tear pouring down his face.
The doctor moved to the side of the bed and quickly injected the liquid into Chandler's arm. The nurses gently laid him back as he began to lose conciousness and tucked his arms under his blanket to keep him warm.
"Should we put the restraints on him?" One of the nurses asked.
"No, no. He'll be fine when he wakes up. Let's let him sleep it off."
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Eighteen-year-old Chandler Bing waited impatienly in the driver's seat of his brand new sports car, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel and glancing at his watch every ten seconds. "Cal! Let's go!" He shouted out of the passenger side door to his sixteen-year-old brother.
"Sorry, sorry, I'm just nervous, I want this to be perfect, I really like her," Cal said as he slid into the passenger seat and pulled the door shut.
"What are you doing?" Chandler asked when Cal started to pull the seat belt down.
"Putting on my seatbelt?" Cal questioned.
"Dude, you're gonna wrinkle your shirt. Girls don't like wrinkled clothes."
"Oh, yea, you're right," Cal said, letting go of the seat belt and settling back into the seat. "Ok, let's get this show on the road!" He said exitedly, bouncing his knees.
Chandler reached down and turned the volume on the stereo up and sped off down the road, tires squealing and leaves flying.
"Hey, Man, slow down a bit," Cal shouted nervously over the noise of the stereo as Chandler wound his way through the deserted suburban roads, paying no attention to any speed limits.
"We're all ready late, thanks to you. Girls also don't like it when guys are late."
"Yea? Well, they also don't like it when their guys are dead. Come on, just slow down a little, the speed limit's 30, you're going 45."
"Speed limits are just suggestions. Besides, we're like one block away from Kristen's house anyway. You have got to calm down and just relax," Chandler said, taking his eyes off the road to look at his brother and slap him on the chest.
"Chandler!" Cal yelled, pointing toward the road and sucking himself back in his seat.
"Shit!" Chandler spun the wheel to the right, skidding on sand and beautiful red and yellow leaves, but it was too late.
Car collided with truck, metal twisted and bent, glass went flying, bodies jerked back and forth, people screamed, cars flipped, silence took over.
Chandler slowly opened his eyes and looked down at himself, covered in blood. He was laying on his side, smashed against the ground. Blood dripped down on him in an unsteady pace, combining with his own. He didn't need to look up, it was too silent, he already knew. He had killed his own brother. Cal was dead.
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to be continued...
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I am SO SORRY that it took me forever to get this chapter up. I've just been dealing with a lot of stuff lately and I haven't had much time to write. That and I've had major writer's block, ugh! I really want to give you guys a super long chapter, but it's been so hard to write this! I promise the next chapter will be longer, but then you can't be mad at me if it takes me longer to get it up!
Please please please please please reivew! Thanks for reading!
