Hi guys! Sorry that this next chapter has been so long in coming. Life has been busy. But now it's the event you've all been waiting for: the death of Miss April Keane. Also, thank you all so much for your wonderful reviews. They're the reason I keep going!

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The door swung open, it's hinges creaking much more quietly that usual. Roger stepped in quickly, and I saw him tense, his eyes wide with shock and horror.

"Oh Jesus Christ! April!"

There was a terrified, hysterical note in his cry that chilled my blood far more than anything he could have said. I pushed my way into the bathroom to see Roger kneeling on the cold tile floor, cradling April's body in his arms.

…April's body…

Glassy eyes stared out of a grey face, seeing nothing. And there was blood. Oh God, it was everywhere. All over her green sweater and jeans, leaving stains on Roger's hands, congealing in little puddles near his knees…

"Mark!" My friend's voice sounded thick and strangled. "Mark, get help!"

Almost unable to tear my eyes away from the awful sight before me, I backed out of the room and made a dash for the phone. My fingers were shaking so badly I could barely dial. It rang twice, then I heard a crisp response from the other end.

"This is 911, what is your emergency?" At the sound of that voice, I couldn't fight back the blind panic I felt rising in my chest, choking me. This was actually happening. This was real…

"It's- it's my friend, I mean, my best friend's girlfriend! I think she was mugged or something…There's blood all over the place!" I was starting to lose it; I could see the blackness clawing at the edges of my vision.

"All right, sir," the operator cut in, "Is the victim conscious?"

"I…oh shit….I don't think so… No. No she's not! Jesus, there's so much blood!"

"Calm down, sir. Now, what's your name?"

"M-mark Cohen."

"Where do you live?"

As I dictated the address, my breath come in thin gasps, and I realized, I was verging on hyperventilation.

"All right Mark, we'll send someone over right away, but I need you to stay on the phone with me until then."

"What? No, I cant'! I've gotta help Roger!" With that, I slammed the receiver down, not bother to put it back in its cradle.

"Rog, the cops are on their way!"

Running into the bathroom, I witnessed something I had never seen before: Roger crying. He was holding April close, ignoring the dried blood that covered the front of his shirt, his lips moving as if in prayer. I felt a wave of nausea hit me as I watched my beautiful friend, cold and unresponsive under his trembling hands. I knelt down next to him, and, hoping against hope, lifted April's wrist, feeling for a pulse.

I found something else.

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Short chapter, I know. Hopefully, I'll be able to update on Thursday. Until then, tell me what you think. This was a difficult chapter to write.