Meanwhile at Mark's side of the bed: I am officially 4 hours, 2 minutes and 23 seconds off the smack. 4 Hours, 2 minutes and 25 seconds. I can't stand any longer. I need a shot and I need it now. I'm shaking.. my hands are shaking, my legs are shaking, even my little toe is shaking. For Christ sake I need a shot. But I'm in Susan's house, if she wakes up and doesn't see me lying here, she thinks I'm fucking some other girl. Wait, there are paid phones on this site of the street. What if I call Mikey and ask if he can bring me some? Fuck, don't have enough money. But wait, Susan's wallet is on the table in the dining room. Oh I'm so fucked up if she sees me stealing money. But I need a shot. I quietly slide out of the bed, take some money out of her wallet and then walk outside to the phones. I dial the number of Mikey and ask him for enough smack for one shot and a clean needle. About 15 minutes later he's there. I give him the cash and he gives me my stuff. I'm not sure what to do now.

Go back and use it inside the house? I walk to the door, but it's locked. The fucking door is closed!! You idiot! It's midnight, you're in the middle of nowhere and you stand here with a needle filled with the good stuff, on your bare feet. What can you do? Ring the bell, wake Susan, and with the needle in my hand say: "Guess what I found on the streets." No, not a great idea. I just use this one, hide the needle somewhere and sleep on the stairs outside her appartment. I think that's much better. And we'll see in the morning what to say to her.

My alarm clock is ringing, it's 8 o'clock. The first thing I remember: Mark's parents today. I turn around to tell Mark he has to stand up, but there's nobody beside me. I get this strange feeling that something bad happened. I put on some clothes and then walk to the dining room. Well, nothing changed from the way it looked yesterday. where is he? I walk to the bathroom, kitchen, but I can't find him. I'm scared. Maybe he didn't want to talk about his father yesterday, but I pushed him too much and he throws himself before the train. I walk outside and then see him lying on the stone cold stairs. With only a pair of pants on. " Mark what are you doing here?" I try to touch his arm, but he feels cold. " Mark? Wake up, it's me." I see something moving, his eyes open up. "Hey!" he says. "Is that everything you have to say? Look, if you were upset about yesterday evening you could have said that to me. Why are you sleeping on my stairs and not in my warm bed?"