This fic is about April's death, told from Mark's perspective. I originally had this rated M, but several friends told me it would be OK for teen. If you feel it is too intense PLEASE tell me. I will change the rateing. I'm kind of proud of this. If you like it, I encourage you to rad my other fics. This is definatly my most angsty, so...
Much Love. Read and Review please! Enjoy:
Close on Roger
His girlfriend April
Left a note saying "We've got AIDS"
Before slitting her wrists in the bathroom
"Marky, pookie, hurry!" Maureen yipps, as I fumble with his keys.
"What is wrong with you Maureen?"
"I have to pee OK?"
"Fine. Here." I say, unlocking the door, fighting the urge to make her wait. But then I'd wind up sleeping on the couch, so...
"Roger? April?" Maureen calls. The lights were all on, but there was no sign of either the rocker or his girlfriend.
"We never leave the lights on. It wastes too much money." I point out.
"But where are they? I think Roger had a gig. 'Member? At that new club?"
"But didn't April say she was staying here? She felt sick."
"Oh yeah. She was susposed to go to the doctor's this morning. April-Baby? Where are you?"
"We should check her room." I say.
"You go ahead. I've still got to pee."
I walk toward the room she and my bestfriend shared. It was empty, no April asleep under the covers. I noticed several pill bottles next to her nightstand.
Then I hear it. Maureen's scream. "ACK! Mark help!" I hear her yell in fear..
"What baby? I yell as I run to the bathroom. Then I see it. The bathtub overflowing with pale red water. Blood on the floor. The mirror. At first I thought it was wrote in blood, but then I realized it was lipstick.
Roger,
Baby, we've got AIDS. I'm sorry... I couldn't deal. I love you.
-April
"Don't touch the blood Maureen." I say softly. She was caught, looking at our beloved friend's body.
The body. The blood. April. Her pale blond hair lay slopily in the water. Her pale blue eyes rolled to the back of her head. Her left wrist was shredded. Blood had drained out, into the tub and on the floor. The razor, slick with blood, had fell to the floor.
"C'mon Maureen." I gently grab her arm and lead her out into the living room. I hold her hand and grab the phone, dial 911.
"Hello?"
"Yes. My-My friend... She.." My voice cracks. "Her body... blood."
"Sir, calm down. Do you need an ambulance?"
"Yes... No siren." No siren rushing to save April's life. She was just gone.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes. She's gone." I can't say dead. I can't say suecide... Where was Roger? Oh god! Roger! April had AIDS. Roger has... No. NO!
I hear the receptionist hang up. "Mark." Maureen whispers. "She, she's..."
I pull her close. We sit numbly on the couch. I cling to her just so I know she's still with me. I hear the knock. She gets up, anwsers the door.
"She's in the bathroom." Maureen turns, leading the paramedics to the bathroom. I see the body bag. I feel my dinner begin to shift. The medics go to the bathroom, Maureen and I watch, too enthralled to turn away.
They make sure she has no pulse, no breath in her lungs. Gone. They avoid her stricken blood.
I hear the door open. No. "April, baby, did you hear the medics outside? April? Mark? Maureen? Anyone...?" He turns the corner, sees Maureen and I, sees the medics.
He shoves past me, past the medics, kneels in a bit of April's blood. "April! God..." He sees the mirror. "No! Why? What? April!" He takes her lifeless hand in his. "April. Baby..."
"Sir, she's gone. Please move back." The medic says. Roger sullenly gets up, hateing the medic for saying she was gone. "Mark, what? How?" He says weak.
"We found her... already like this... called 911. I'm sorry." Coherent speach was impossible. Pure emotion. I put my arm around my friend. He's shaking.
I move him and Maureen to the couch, grabbing a rag so Roger can wipe away April's blood. Maureen has been crying since she found the body. I knew something was wrong. She found her best friend's lifeless body! God... If I found Roger... I pull her close, sitting between them. Roger is silent, shaking. Maureen clings to me, rocking. I hold his hand. April? Why did you do this? AIDS. She has... had AIDS. Roger had it too. No. Roger dying? No. My best friend. No.
They take her away. The three of us don't get off that couch all night. None of us dare go near the bathroom. Where she breathed her last.
In time, Maureen falls asleep, her head resting in my lap.
"Mark." He says, barely audible. "It's my fault... The drugs caused this."
"No. Don't blame yourself. She was weak."
"I'm going to die. I'm going to die a fucking good-for-nothing wannabe, who wasted his life on booze and drugs. I have AIDS. I'm going to die addicted to heroin."
"No! We'll get you help. You can still do something with your life."
"We can't afford help."
"Yes we will damnit! Roger you are my bestfriend! My brother. I will not let you die!"
"There's nothing you can do!"
"Yes I can! I'll die cold and alone, having done nothing with my life!"
"NO! I will NEVER leave you. I love you." He is my true brother.
"Mark, help me. Please."
"I will. I'll get you treatment. I promise. I'm sorry."
"She's really gone isn't she?"
"Yes. She has died." I say, finaly letting April slide into her dark fate.