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Days Of Our Lives
by Alison
Rating: PG
Feedback: Gimme
Disclaimer: Duh
Notes: Answer to the Dead Letters challenge at www.dymphna.net/deadletters.
For the record, I�m dead. Yep, Joey Tribbiani has taken his final curtain call. I was kinda pissed at first, but you learn to get over it. I never thought it would end like that, though, bleeding to death on a sidewalk, ten feet from the familiar warmth that was our haven, while contemplating the Manhattan skyline.
It�s still the most beautiful thing I�ve ever seen.
Did you know that when you die, you�re allowed to write one last letter, for whatever reason you choose? So this is me, speaking from beyond the grave. I�m not exactly sure how it works or if this will ever reach them. But if it doesn�t, whoever finds this, will you pass along the message for me?
I want to tell them it didn�t hurt, because they were there. Someone was shouting, someone was crying, someone was silent, someone was hysterical and Chandler was stroking my cheek, gently, begging me not to leave him. I want to tell him I love him and I know I�ve hurt him, badly, but the fact that I�m dead doesn�t mean he gets to stop living. I want to tell him to remember all those episodes of Baywatch, Cap�n Crunch, the day I brought home the chick, the night I kissed him...
I want to tell Rachel to remember all the fun we had and that I hope it�s a little girl with a smile like hers. I want to tell Ross that he�s an idiot for not realizing Rachel was right there and to remember the day he bought the ceramic dog for me. Oh, and also, if he ever finds a new dinosaur, to name it after me. I want to tell Phoebe never to change, to keep singing and remember the day I kissed her on the street. And Monica. I want her to know she has the one thing I was just too stupid to realize I wanted. I was never jealous, though; if she was what made Chandler happy, then I was happy, too. But there�s one thing I want her to have. Look in the cabinet closest to the fridge -- the bag of plastic spoons.
I want to tell them to move on after I�m gone, to take long walks and to revel in the life that surrounds them. To look at the people around them -- each one of them is someone�s daughter, brother, father, lover -- and never to forget that. Smile at a stranger; it just might make their day. Listen to the laughter of children. Worlds are born within those sounds.
I want to tell them that I love them. I love them so much.
And that Mr. Heckles says hi.
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