A/N: NYC was awesome. Rent was so so awesomecool, I loved it!!! Cookies to Alana and another musical theatre teenybopper (::) REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!
Snapshots
Chapter 4: Goodbye(April)
You should go to the doctor. That's what Roger said today, when I threw up and couldn't stop coughing. You should go to the doctor.
So I went to the clinic, even though I hate going to the doctor. I hate hospitals in general. The sterilized smell and atmosphere gets to me, it always does. Mama died in the hospital, too. She had some disease. I was four. I barely remember her at all. I remember that Mama would always sing me a song to go to sleep. She would sing "Over the Rainbow" before she got sick. That was my favorite song. I watched The Wizard of Oz until I practically had it memorized, and when me and my older sisters, May, June, and July, got to see Mama, I would perform it for her. That would always make Mama smile. And then Mama died. She died right in the hospital, and I was there, when she died. I couldn't see the hospital bed, but I heard her last word: goodbye. That's all she said. "Goodbye." And after that, I remember asking my Dad if I was going to die next. He looked at me long and hard and told me that me and my sisters were lucky to not have what Mama had, and that we wouldn't get sick like she did.
But still, ever since that day, I've hated hospitals and going to the doctor. But I felt like shit today, and I haven't been to the doctor in forever, so I went. I sat in the small, sterilized waiting room and filled out forms and sat in the stiff-backed chairs until they called my name.
"April McHugh," the receptionist called. I stood up and walked into the doctor's office. I was instantly reminded of Mama as soon as I walked in. I hate doctor's offices.
He had me take a blood test. I didn't think much of it at the time. I didn't know how much it mattered.
The doctor told me to sit in the waiting room until my test results were in. I still felt like shit as I pretended to read a magazine in the waiting room, averting the eyes of everyone else.
"April McHugh, your test results are in," the receptionist called.
"April McHugh, your test results are in." The receptionist had such an innocent, sweet voice. Makes me sick. I walked into the doctor's office nonchalantly, unprepared for the news that I was about to face. In fact, I was half-listening to the words the doctor was saying. I needed to get out of this place. It reminded me too much of Mama. Then I started to hear snippets of what the doctor was saying, and my mind stopped.
"Positive for HIV..." he began saying, but I didn't hear anything past that. HIV. I remember hearing that somewhere before, maybe when I was a kid. Then I remembered. Mama. That's what she had. But Dad said that I didn't have it... I must have gotten it from shooting up. Figures. But that means that Roger...probably has it too. Fuck. And now I'm going to die. I'm going to die, just like Mama, just like her..."
"April? Are you all right?" Damn doctor interrupted my chain of thought.
"I'm fine, just...fine." Ha. Nothing farther from the truth there. Fine. Yeah, I've just been diagnosed with a fatal disease, and I'm fine. And my boyfriend has it too, because we're such idiots. Fine. The doctor continued on, handing me a prescription for AZT and a printout of the test results, but I wasn't listening. I walked wordlessly out of the office. How was I going to break this to Roger? He'll kill me for not being careful enough, and now we're both going to end up like Mama. Dead. Fuck.
When I arrive at the loft, there's a note on the table:
April-
At band practice. Mark's out filming something in Central Park. Be back soon.
Love you-
Roger
"Love you" How can he possibly love me now? How could anyone possibly love me now? I had to pee, so I went into the bathroom, where I saw my pink razor sitting on the bathroom counter.
And then a thought crept up in my mind. I had tried it before, but I'd be better this time. I remember the last time. I never had a real reason last time, I was probably just depressed, and I slit my wrists across the veins and not along them. June found me in the bathroom that we shared, but there was still enough time to save me. But this time, I'll do it right. This time, I have a real reason.
I ran the bathtub and waited for the water to come out warm and clean. I looked at the clock. I had to do this quick, or else someone would come home and see me. Hastily, I wrote a note across the bathroom mirror in the "Shocking Red" lipstick that I bought last week, but haven't worn yet.
We've got AIDS. That's all it needed to say. Short and sweet and to the point. The tub was almost full now. I took the razor, and contemplated my decision for a split second before I decided to just do it.
Goodbye.
