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"…Thank God this moment's not the last!" How is it possible that Mimi is still with us? She is such a fighter. I am so glad that Roger still has her…after April I never thought that he would love another woman. When Mimi came along, though I longed more than anything to be with him, I was glad at least that he had someone who made him happy. On some level, I hadn't realized that his feelings for her were so strong, although I suppose whenever somebody you love is dying, your feelings would be intensified…I mean, the rest of us were all distraught. Mimi is a great friend. Joanne comes up to me, embracing me in apology for our latest round of fights, and Rogers tears continue as he holds Mimi close to him, and I can only imagine what is going through his head right now…his eyes clouded with emotion that I can't quite read as we celebrated the miracle that had befallen us. Did he write that song for me? He couldn't have…could he? He always liked to talk about my eyes, he was so intrigued by them…I'm being ridiculous. Of course the song is about Mimi. But as I heard him begin to sing, I couldn't help but feel that somehow…I can't take this. But don't make a scene…can't make a scene. I turned to leave, but as I stepped towards the door, forcing one foot to go after the other, I look back. Great. Now what? I'll turn into a pillar of salt? Roger's eyes locked with mine, and immediately I felt guilty as his hurt overwhelmed me, and my body froze. I couldn't move, couldn't see for the tears in my eyes, and I collapsed into heap on the floor, sobbing for an unknown reason that I couldn't even begin to define. So many things going through my mind…I felt arms lock around me, lifting me off of the floor, vaguely heard a comforting murmur—Joanne. I couldn't breathe again, couldn't move, couldn't even focus enough to comprehend what Joanne was saying. Roger…help me…need help…he has to help…but he has Mimi…but he knows how to help me…I love him…I need to tell him…I should tell him…Joanne continued to try to comfort me to no avail…dizzy…can't breathe…the spinning world gives way to darkness…
When I awoke, my breathing and heartbeat once again normal, I had been put on the aluminum table that Mimi had initially been placed on. Mark was sitting beside me, and informed me that I had been out for several hours, and Joanne had gone to work, relinquishing caring duty to him. Collins, Roger and Mimi were sitting in a small clump on the floor, whispering. I couldn't make out what they were discussing, but it seemed pretty intense, and seemed to be upsetting Mimi…uh oh. She rose silently, and as she did, the light reflected in such a way that I could tell that she had been crying. She exited the loft, and we heard her door slam downstairs. Roger slumped over, and Collins tried to console him. I tried to stand, but my legs had other plans. Mark caught and steadied me, but the racket caused the two other men to realize that I was conscious once again, and they ran over, fussing over me.
"Are you okay?"
"What happened?" I rolled my eyes as the questioning proceeded.
"I'm fine. I was just tired. And a little traumatized. How are you?" I asked, addressing Roger seriously.
"What? Why? Oh…did you just see Mimi?" I continued trying to pierce him with my intent gaze, knowing that he knew exactly what I meant.
"Did you tell her about…um…ahem." He took the hint, and nodded, his eyes dropping as he muttered something beneath his breath. Mark looked very puzzled, about to interject, but Collins pulled him aside. He was the only one left who didn't know about her. I turned my focus back to Roger. "Oh, honey…now?"
"Shut up! I already feel like shit." I tried to embrace him, but he pushed me away roughly, with enough force to knock me to the ground. His strength surprised me—he had never hurt me physically before, which caused came as a shock to all of us, Collins rushing to my defense, Mark frozen in fear somewhere off to the side. Roger's eyes were crazed, and I cowered, scurrying back away from him, and Collins stood in front of Roger, trying to knock some sense into him, but Roger kept trying to come after me. What the hell sparked this? And why all of this sudden hatred and anger towards me? I ran out of the loft on weak, wobbling legs, frightened and frantic, somehow in the process managing to miss a step and take a tumble, my head striking the harsh edge of cruel cement…I heard a door open, felt small, cold hands touching me, heard frantic screaming…
AN- Thanks for the comments. Keep them coming :) I'm glad to keep writing as long as somebody gives me feedback. --wink--