Legal copyright stuff… I don't own these characters blah blah blah…
I rush up the stairs because I hear what sounds like furniture being thrown. I push the door open, but something is blocking it. I struggle to get the door open, "Roger? Are you in there?"
"Get the fuck away, Mark!" the voice on the other side is loud but monotonous.
"Roger! What's wrong! Let me in!"
"Leave me alone!" A little louder, a lot angrier.
Oh God, what is going on in there? Are Roger and April having another fight? "Roger, I just need to get something. April, could you please open the door?"
Finally I hear shuffling and the door opens. Roger doesn't look at me but I notice the tears running down his face. He quickly hands me a crumple up piece of paper. As he walks away, I slowly unfold it. It has three simple, tear stained words on it, "We Got AIDS." I stare at the words until they become blurry. Roger? April? AIDS? No, it can't be true. Slowly I look up at him when I notice the trail of blood coming from the bathroom.
"Jesus Roger, what's going on?" I rush in and see April's limp body holding onto the toilet. She is wearing only underwear. "Oh God! Oh God! Roger, what happened? What's going on?" I go to her and notice right away that she isn't breathing and the blood is coming from her wrists. I start pacing back and forth; a million things are going on in my mind. That's when I saw the needles sitting on the table. "ROGER, WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON!"
He just stands there sobbing, his entire body trembling. A million images and thoughts and questions race through my mind. I am unable to distinguish them apart. I stand there staring at Roger. Heroin? I had no idea they were doing heroin. How could I not know, I was living with them. Finally, the rational side of me kicks in, "Roger, we have to call the police." As I say this, we both look at the needles sitting on the table.
"Mark, I don't know what to do." I'm startled. His voice doesn't sound like his.
"Heroin? How long?" I take my glasses off and wipe the tears.
"A long time. Too long. It's over. I can't… I won't…"
I cannot believe I didn't know. All the signs were there. All the excuses. I was just to busy with my own shit.
"Roger, I just can't believe it… April's note… do you think it's true?" I'm almost afraid of his answer. He just shrugs and walks across the room to the table. He picks up the needle and stares at intently.
"We really need to call the police. We have to get her out of here." In other words, get rid of the needles….
Roger nods. He takes the needles and wraps his fingers around them and walks over to the window. I don't even want to see what he does to get rid of them. I make my way to the phone. I dial 911 and wait for the operator. My hands are shaking; I turn my back away from the bathroom. I can't believe she is inside there…dead. I just…
"Hello… we need an ambulance, my roommate…. Is…..She slit her wrists…." I notice Roger, who has his back to me, cringe when I say the words out loud. I hang up the phone; "They are on their way. Did you take care of everything?" He nods and turns around, with the needle in his arm.
"FUCK ROGER! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" Oh God, I can't deal with this. He stares back at me intently. He has a cold look in his eyes I have never seen. His body has stopped trembling. He looks like a stranger to me.
"It's over…. I can't go on anymore…It's over…." He keeps repeating the same words over and over.
I go over to him, grab him by his shoulders, "It's not over. It's just beginning. You need to get help. You need to see a doctor and find out if you are really positive."
"It's over, it's over…" Roger falls to the floor and rocks very slowly.
"Roger, listen to me… we'll get through this, together. I'm always going to be there for you… you need to start taking care of yourself…." Just then the door flies open and the paramedics and police storm in. "In the bathroom." They don't even hear me and go rushing in. The police come right over to us. I whisper to Roger to just be quiet.
I tell the police the whole story and show them the note. They want to talk to Roger, but he is just rocking back and forth. One policeman keeps lurking around Roger. "Is he on something?"
"No, Christ, his girlfriend is in the other room dead. How is he supposed to act?"
"Yeah, I am" His voice is louder than mine. He looks at me, "Mark, do you promise to help me? I'm not strong enough to do this alone." I just nod back to him. He tells the police officer he needs to get the hospital. The officer helps him up and escorts him out of the apartment. I watch him go. I watch them carry April's dead body out of the apartment. My feet feel glued to the floor. I look around the room, and suddenly, for the first time in my life, feel very alone.