It was after dinner and everyone had left apart from Monica, who was cleaning dishes and Chandler, who was staring into space. Monica saw him sitting there and pulled of her dish washing gloves, and then walked over, perching next to him.
"When I was little, about 11 years old I think, there was this girl who lived across the street from me. She was 14 and I talked to her once, even brought her home for dinner." Monica said. Chandler just looked at her.
"Her name was Abbie McFall, and she seemed a nice girl. Do you know what happened to her Chandler?" Monica asked.
"What happened to Abbie?" He asked. Monica simply looked at him. "I don't want to know what happened to Abbie..." He said. Monica sighed and continued.
"I brought her home for dinner, and she met my mom. My mom didn't like her..." Monica said.
"Why?" Chandler asked.
"Because Abbie was helping set the table and she moved her arm, and my mom saw lots of cuts on her arm. This apparently made Abbie a bad influence, so my mom told me- rather loudly- that I couldn't play with her anymore incase I started self harming." Monica explained.
"Is that it?" Chandler asked.
"No. I came home from school one day and there were police cars outside of her house. Abbie had hung herself with her school tie." Monica said. Chandler blinked, in shock.
"Really?" He asked.
"Really," she told him. "So promise me something?" She asked.
"Anything," he said, taking her hands in his.
"Abbie gave up. Tell me if you ever feel like giving up again." Monica said.
"I'll tell you. I promise." He told her. Monica kissed his head and then went off to bed, leaving Chandler to wonder.