Disclaimer: I do not own RENT. Nor do I pretend to.
April woke at four it was almost light, light enough to see Roger's silhouette. She carefully climbed out of bed and pulled on shorts and a baggy, hooded pullover that made her already tiny frame seem somehow smaller.
She quietly walked, almost tiptoed, through the hallway. Her reflection in the stained, hanging mirror caught her eye and she froze. The girl looking back at her looked pale, skinny and sick. The countless sleepless nights had taken their toll with dark, almost purple circles surrounding her round, sad eyes. Her unwashed red hair was in a tangled mess around her head. She couldn't keep living like this, controlled by the drugs, blaming herself for Roger's addiction, his illness. Their disease. The girl in the mirror began to cry, tears rolled slowly down her cheeks and she turned away.
No, she couldn't keep living like this. She had to make a decision. Stay or run?
Her choice was made almost as soon as the question formed in her head. But she couldn't leave without saying goodbye. April began to walk quickly through the small, untidy apartment looking for a piece of everywhere, everyday equipment. A pen. A simple thing to leave her final mark.
She walked, even faster, to her bedroom. Her favourite red lipstick was on the bedside table. She grabbed it and left her room again without looking at Roger. She couldn't change her mind. She couldn't give herself the chance.
Her reflection caught her eye and again she froze. The stained hanging mirror. She uncapped the lipstick and wound it up. It shimmered slightly and she started to write, red words formed over her reflection.
We've got AIDS.
That was all she was going to leave him with. Three words in lipstick scrawled on a mirror. She hoped it would be enough.
The lipstick fell from her hand and the sound it made when it hit the cheap linoleum floor pierced the early morning silence. It was almost musical.
April ran to the door and flung it open. She ran and the steps seemed to fly by beneath her. She could see the door to the roof. Her foot caught and she fell backwards. The world spun.
Sprawled across the steps she swore. She could taste blood and her hand automatically reached up to touch her nose. She rose slowly to her feet and started to run again, limping slightly, still hurting from the fall.
She reached the top of the steps and paused, only briefly, to catch her breath. The door to the roof opened and the sunlight hit her face. The warmth was comforting and she closed her eyes remembering everything, all the good times. Remembering how much she loved the sun and the sand. She took a deep breath and pushed those thoughts to the back of her mind. She opened eyes and squinted into the sun as she made her way to the nearest edge.
She looked down and her head began to spin again. It was high, but was it high enough? She closed her eyes, ready to step off but her legs wouldn't move. Paralysed with fear and doubt she tried to stop herself from changing her mind. She had come so far already. She was so close.
Another memory hit, clear and strong and powerful. The park and all those children, chasing birds and spinning, laughing wildly. She shook her head, she was trembling. Blood still dripped from her nose and on to her pullover. She spread her arms as if to help her balance, or to help her fly. She slowly leaned forward. She slipped off the edge and tumbled through the air and out of consciousness.
At first and only for a moment it felt like flying.