Author's note: This is the chapter I warned you about. Tears were shed in the process of writing it. Enjoy
Roger didn't show up for school on Monday. Mark was afraid to go over to his house and make sure things were alright, but Maureen and Collins convinced him to go. Collins even volunteered to go with him. As far as Mark was concerned, there was no logical way for him to refuse, so he agreed.
School let out at three o'clock. Mark and Collins, along with a concerned Benny, started the two-mile trek to Roger's house. Forty-five minutes into the hike, it began to rain. It was still pouring when they reached Roger's house. Mark took a deep breath, and then rang the doorbell. There was no answer. Mark exchanged a worried glance with Collins before trying the doorknob. The door was unlocked, and swung open easily. It took a moment for their eyes to adjust to the darkness, but they were still in no way prepared for what they saw.
Charlene was nowhere to be seen, but judging by what he saw, Mark didn't care if she was lying dead in a ditch somewhere. He stared at the horrific scene in front of him. There was blood everywhere, and a trail of it led upstairs. Collins started up, but stopped, halfway, horrified. "Mark," he whispered, "call 911." Mark grabbed the phone, noticing that the cord has been ripped in half. "I can't." Benny threw him his clunky cell phone. "Use mine." He turned, starting up the stairs, already processing the scene in front of him. "My god," he whispered, just barely loud enough for Benny to hear. "What the hell happened here?" Collins shook his head. "I don't know…Mark, hurry!" There was no reply, just a sharp intake of breath. Benny turned. Mark was standing at the foot of the stairs, clearly shocked by the scene that was playing out in front of him. Roger lay sprawled on the ground halfway up the stairs, still bleeding. Benny grabbed Mark's arm gently, dialing the phone as he led Mark to sit on the couch. "I'm calling 911," he said softly, "and then I'll call Maureen." He focused on his phone. "Hello, 911? Yes, we have an emergency…I think he's still alive, barely…bleeding…we're at 4189 E. Lawndale Drive…his name is Roger Davis…Me? I'm Benny…Benjamin Coffin the Third…There's three of us here with him…I don't know what happened…please, hurry."
The next hour passed in a blur. Mark sat on the couch, numb, vaguely aware of Maureen at his side. The paramedics arrived, and Roger was rushed to the hospital in critical condition. They weren't even sure he'd survive the night. The police declared that someone had tried to kill him. Mark stood up at that. "Yeah, someone did try to kill him," he snapped. "His mother." The police didn't listen, instead questioning them about any enemies Roger had. Charlene turned up and pounced on Mark, demanding him to tell her who tried to kill her "baby." Maureen glared at her, pulling Mark to her side. Collins was questioned again and again about he they found Roger. The police declared Collins a hero, much to his dismay. Finally, they were told that had they arrived even a few minutes later, Roger would not have survived at all. "Thanks to you three," the paramedic told them, "he has a fighting chance. He'll spend some time in ICU, recovering, and then he'll be good as new." Mark shuddered, afraid to think of what Charlene would do when Roger got out.