I'd also like to note that this is my first piece of fan fiction that deviates from what genre of what it's based upon. In my first two fan fiction pieces (TOW Ross's Curse and TOW Chandler is Scared), I've tried to keep the pieces as close to the show as possible while still letting my imagination roam. This time, I'm just going to write and see what happens. Things probably will not be continuous with the show. Don't tell me if something in it is wrong (relationships, family members, etc), I did it on purpose to make it work with the story.
This is version two of the story. For those of you who read it before, Chandler was murdered while walking home with Rachel. This version just seemed more realistic. I also had a new idea and this situation worked better.
Reviews are very much appreciated. I have a lot of ideas for this story, so please let me know what you think as I go along. This is a close to original fiction as I've gotten with fan fiction (well, seeing as how this is only my third attempt). I hope you like this. Please review so I know whether or not to continue or trash this story
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One
Death is not what I thought it would be. Everything I had heard was not true. I was not a religious man when I was alive, but I am in heaven. There was no tunnel with a bright light, there was only pain, then a release as my soul floated away from my body. I died on Christmas day at the age of 28, which was really ironic since Thanksgiving was the holiday I hated.
You're probably wondering how a 28 year old could die. Cancer? Deterioritng health? No. I was in perfect health. Maybe I fell off the fire escape of my New York apartment and plunged to my death. No, not even I was enough of a klutz for that. Maybe I was murdered? No.
Ever since my parents divorced when I was a child, I have hated Thanksgiving. Christmas was still special to me, though. Every year, it meant change. I could start over, become a new person. A better person. Nicer. Richer. Smarter. Every year, I failed, but there was always the promise of next year. But this time, it was different. This time, I had someone to welcome the new year with.
That could have been the story of my life. As I watch the people on earth, and the souls here in heaven, I can't help but feel slightly bitter. The majority of people here had a chance to live a full life. But when I look around more, there are also those much younger than me. I realize now, too late of course, my life was not fullfilled. I was beginning to get things together, everything was falling in place. As soon as I was beginning to shape my life, it was taken away from me. How is that fair?
No matter how much I try to put it off, I keep going back to the one thing I try not to believe is true. I am, in fact, dead. Like most others, I was denied the chance to say good-bye. There is always so much left unsaid during one's lifetime; I could have written the great American novel with all the things I wanted my friends to know.
Some things are better left unsaid, they say. Not true.
So it was Christmas day, early in the morning, right before dawn, where everything seems to glow in the moon. It glows because it knows that for another day, it could never be that peaceful again.
I was in a car. Strange circumstances led to one of my best friends, Rachel, a former classmate of mine, Derek, and I to be driving back from his cabin in Maine. Driving up there had exhausted me. Derek offered to drive back after he saw how tired I was. I had settled in the back seat. Rachel was in the front passenger seat, asleep even before Derek pulled out of the parking lot.
And then a restless sleep. I had a fight with my fiancee, Monica Gellar and Rachel's best friend, before I left to pick up Rachel and Derek. It nagged at me the entire way up, the feeling never went away. I don't know how long I slept.
Then, I opened my eyes as a shriek pierced the air. Rachel. I looked up to see a rail coming closer by the second. In the few precious seconds that followed, my eyes flickered to Derek who had jerked awake and slammed the brakes desperately. An unforunate driver was coming directly towards us.
The two cars collided, skidding, metal falling apart, sparks flying, the crashes, and the never ending screaming. Then it stopped. Silence. Just Rachel panting as she struggled to regain sanity. Derek leaned over the best he could. He couldn't move his legs.
What about me? I don't know. How do you register something that happens within two seconds? Metal, collision, fragile human body. Can you do the math now?
I know this much: there was blood and pain and coldness. I stared ahead with glazed eyes. Rachel turned around and reached out to touch my hand. I felt her warmth. I was so cold by then.
"Chandler?" she said, panic evident in her voice.
"Omigod... Chandler," she gasped. She was horrified. By what? Blood? The twisted metal? There was silence.
After a moment, Rachel slowly pulled out her cell phone with shaky hands. She dialed three numbers. I tried to listen but her voice was becoming more and more distant. She cried and tried to listen to the person on the other end, tried to stay calm. She turned back to me again.
"They're coming, hold on a bit longer. We're all going to be okay," she assured me.
No matter how quickly the paramedics arrived, they were too late. Because as I gazed at one of my best friends and thought of the woman I loved, I died.