His Neverland

And were we ever somewhere else?
You know, it's hard to say...

As I turn the corner and shove the recently purchased little bag into my pocket, my eyes catch flashes of read and blue. I find the source to be two police cars parked outside the corner of 11th Street and Avenue B.

I follow my first instinct and drop the baggie into the gutter. I'll just borrow April's money and buy more later. She'll understand.

When I see them putting up caution tape, I know this isn't a drug bust. Now the panic sets in.

I duck under the tape and dash up the stairs. I hear the officers calling after me that the building is a restricted area. "I fucking live here!" I yell just before I reach the door to the loft.

As the door slides open and hits the wall with a crash my eyes immediately fall on Mark. He stands leaning against the back of the couch in just his pants, right hand crossed in front of him and grabbing his left elbow. There's a discarded shirt covered in blood at his feet. His eyes are puffy and his face looks flushed. He looks up slowly at me, appearing to be in shock.

"Roger..." he chokes out.

I look to the left and see camera flashes coming from the bathroom. I hear words like 'lacerations' and 'self-inflicted. My feet seem to develop a mind of their own as they carry me toward that room.

Nothing could have prepared me for what I saw.

The voices become a drone as my eyes take in the pale arm hanging out of the tub, razor blade still touching the fingers, the blood...fuck, there's so much blood...and the note scrawled on the door in April's handwriting: 'We've got AIDS'.

I feel myself shaking as my eyes widen. AIDS. Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome. April's dead and all she left me is three little words. No 'goodbye', no 'love'...just my death sentence.

I see one officer pick up the razor (I notice they're all wearing extra thick gloves) and place it in an evidence bag. My straight razor. April kept telling me one day I'd end up cutting myself with it and bleeding out. Fuck.

I can't look anymore. I feel numb all over as I make my way over to the couch, which Mark is now sitting on, curled in a little ball and rocking back and forth. My gaze never leaves the floor as I sit, listening to the slight squeaking caused by Mark's movement.

I can hear Mark half whispering through his sobs. "Sh-she was taking so long and I just...I wanted to see if she was okay and...oh god, there was blood everywhere. I tried-I tried to help her but she just got colder and colder..."

"You didn't get any on your skin, did you?" Through my shock I feel a slight sting of concern. I suppose it's something I should get used to.

"No."

"Good." A heavy silence falls over us.

After a few minutes I stop hearing the couch creak. When I hear Mark's sobs turning into sniffles,I force myself to look at him. Our eyes lock and I see the same realization in his bloodshot pair that I know is in mine as well as I feel my own tears streaming down my face.

Alphabet City isn't Neverland anymore.