June 24th

The past four days have been some of the most difficult for all of us in the loft. I wasn't expecting them to be easy, but…I just don't know. I still don't comprehend this. I'd give anything to just get April's answers to all of the questions that have been flying through my head. It's easy enough to make assumptions about some of them, but still. I would've wanted April's answers.

Especially her answer to why she thought there was no way to live anymore. Even with us, her family. Even with Roger, the guy who loved her more than anything.

Both Benny and Collins have been home with us now, we're so lucky for that. Collins was away doing an interview at MIT, where he might get hired to teach…they should be calling him any day now. He got back a little while after my last entry, the day after April's death. Benny got back the day after Collins, he had been away on some important "business trip", which probably translates into vacation at the Playboy mansion, but I was, for once, too upset to debate on where he really was with him. At least they were here now.

I can give April credit for one thing in her death: she reminded us all that we're a family and we need each other. We've all done a lot of sitting around in the living room area of the loft. Just sitting, no speaking. Mark hasn't touched the camera, which is a big deal. Roger's done with the guitar, he's decided. We've done a lot of hugging and holding each other. Physical contact is such a comfort to me.

The wake was yesterday, and the funeral was today. A closed-casket wake…we didn't want to take the chance that anyone would see the massive wounds on her arms. She had no family, besides us, and very few other friends, only two of whom showed up and seemed a little too high to speak to any of us. Real fucking considerate of them, really. Benny was nice enough to foot the bill on everything so that we could all at least take comfort in the fact that she had gone to rest properly.

We all went home after and attempted eating some of the food that Mark's mom had sent up when she heard about the incident. She keeps calling to check on us, which is more of an annoyance than anything, because none of us want to talk to her, let alone talk about what we have to go through here. About an hour ago, when she had tried calling for the sixtieth time in the past four days, Roger walked over to the phone while the answering machine was running, blaring, "Kids? Are you alright? You haven't been returning my calls, Mark, I'm getting worried…" and ripped it clean off of the wall.

Needless to say, our chances of having the money to fix that phone soon are pretty much dead, with Benny away again. And for God knows how long, too. He's been dating this woman, Allison, who lives in Westport, and he's obviously looking to make a marriage. She comes from a very rich family, and Benny's always had an eye for cash.

Collins got a message today though; before Roger attacked the phone…he was accepted to teach Computer Age Philosophy at MIT. I'm really proud of him, he worked hard for it. However, he's leaving for Boston on Saturday and today's Thursday, and I'm not sure Mark, Roger, and I can stand to lose him yet. Looks like we don't have much of a choice.

God, I miss April so much.

Later…

Roger is screaming right now, Mark and Collins are taking care of him. Roger hasn't had smack in about a week, since Mark found the heroin he had brought home the night April died and thrown it out the window of the loft. He's going through a withdrawal and he's so desperate, but he's too angsty and despairing to leave the house, even for drugs. Not to mention that with Benny gone, what little money he has isn't going to buy him much of anything. And what little money we all have is pretty much going towards taking care of Roger and the death sentence April left behind for him.

I'm scared. Mark says he'll behave completely irrationally until he can recover from his addiction, which could take a really long time. Mark, the ever-patient best friend, is willing to wait it out. I'm however, not. I'm fed up that his drug addiction is taking higher precedence over his grieving for his girlfriend.

I'm also fed up of hearing Roger hurl invectives at Mark and Collins, saying that there's "absolutely no fucking way in all of fucking hell" that he'll go to the doctor's appointment we made for him tomorrow. He will go, and I know Mark and Collins are both in there, trying to be nice and reason with him, but I don't really understand why. Why are they being nice to him? He needs to see a fucking doctor and get medicine. ROGER HAS AIDS, AND HE NEEDS TO START TAKING CARE OF HIMSELF IF HE INTENDS ON LIVING THROUGH THE REST OF THIS YEAR, LET ALONE THE REST OF HIS LIFE.

I can't stand how selfish he's being, and what's more, I can't stand that Mark especially is putting up with all of the shit that Roger's giving him.

I don't know how we're expected to get by, just the three of us, for God knows how long. I can't even handle it now.