Just so you know, I haven't abandoned this story. It's just that every time I got on the computer to write, something came up. Then, a virus attacked it and I was SOL for three weeks. Thanks for the reviews, it really means a lot to me. Anyway, same old spile. Rent is not mine, not ever.
Chapter 10: Ties That Bond
Roger started to pace around the loft., the hours passing with each hard step. His eyes were
focused on the door, hoping to hear a familiar voice. Hoping to hear a heavy canvas bag plop onto
the floor, and the noise of a worn scarf being unwoven from a thin pale neck. All through the night,
Mimi and Collins stared at him, and worried about him. Even Angel, as she walked through the loft
in her latest fashion was worried about Roger. Collins walked over to Roger and placed a hand on
his shoulder.
"Rog, Mark will come home any moment." he said.
Roger smiled weakly. It wasn't Mark he was entirely worried about; he was assured
countless times of his safety. Only, the streets of Alphabet City were never deemed safe at night. In
fact, as the sun rested every night, the prowlers attacked. It was like a war zone and if you were
weak, like Mark, well basically you were as Roger said "Shit out of Luck." He sat on the well worn
chair and grabbed his guitar. Gently, he felt its aged surface. The wooden body that took him
everywhere and taught him everything. He grabbed his pick as he looked over to Mimi, who sat near
him reading a book and at Collins, who sat on the metal table writing his latest theory with Angel.
He sighed. He studied how Collins wrote feverishly. Lord knows he needed a breakthrough. They all
did. The world needed to hear their story. Until then, the world would sit pathetically in their own
wealth, killing the ones starving in the streets. As he played, rain started to pour, its sound echoing
on the window. Roger put his guitar down and walked over to the window. He looked down at the
streets, at its surreal calmness until he averted his attention to two oncoming figures. He quickly
motioned for the others to come. As Mimi, Collins, and Angel walked over, the figures came closer and closer to their
direction.
"Roger! Mimi! Help!"
"Maureen." Roger said.
Braving the storm, the small group made their way to the fire escape and looked sdown.
Their daces became pale at what they saw. In Joanne's arms held Mark. His face was tricked with
blood and his eyes were closed. As Joanne adjusted him in her arms, her eyes started to tear.
Maureen looked up to the fire escape.
"Help us get him in the loft!" She screamed as the wind started to blow.
Grabbing their coats, Roger, Mimi, collins and Angel made their way down the endless
flights of stairs. When they got to the main level, Roger threw the door open and ran towards
Maureen and Joanne. His face was streaming with tears, Mimi and Collins soon followed, Mimi
clinging to Collins' shoulder crying. Nobody could believe at what they saw. There was Mark, held
by Joanne with a blood soaked face. His glasses were bent and his blonde hair was mattered with
dirt and dried blood. All Roger could concentrate on was Mar's chest. I was painful to watch as it
was faintly rising and falling. He looked at the struggling body and said:
"We got to get him up to the loft. Joanne, can you hold him up the stairs?"
Amid her tears, Joanne nodded "Yes I can."
"Good. Collins and I will help you and Mimi, Maureen and Angel will open the doors."
Roger said.
After fifteen minutes of trying to get mark up the stairs, they made their way into the loft.
Roger motioned for Mimi to grab blankets to keep Mark's shivering wet body warm. They ran into
Mark's room and gently placed him on the bed. Maureen wrapped more blankets on Mark and
backed away. Their eyes welled up as they saw him breathe, or at least try to breathe.
"Wo got to hook him up to the oxygen." Roger said dutifully.
Maureen nodded at Roger. Gently, she lifted Mark's head; careful not to stir him and then proceeded
to wrap the clear wire around his nose. Joanne got the heart monitor from the night stand and placed
it on Mark's chest. Silently, they watched him, watching his frail chest struggling to rise and fall.
The girls' eyes welled with tears after looking at Mark's pained expressions. Collins looked at
Roger and motioned him out of the room. He kissed Mimi and left Mark's room. Roger stood in the
"living room" watching Collins. His face grew worried. He took off his knit cap and looked at
Roger. His young brown face deeply etched with concern.
"Rog, I think we should take Mark to the clinic. Maybe there they could fix him up and tell
us what's wrong."
"No!" Roger yelled. "I promised him that he would never be put in the clinic again."
"Rog, he is in pain. Did you see him? He couldn't even breathe. He needs to be seen by a
doctor." Collins said, placing his hands on Roger's shoulders.
Roger's eyes, his fierce green eyes gre worried. He stared at the surface and then into
Collins. He knew that he had to make a decision fast. But how can you when the victim is your best
friend? After a few moments, Roger began to open his mouth. But before his mouth could open, a
scream erupted from the loft.
" ROGER! COME IN HERE! HURRY!"
"Mimi." Roger said. Without saying another word, Collins and Roger ran into Mark's room. Their
eyes widened at the sight before them. Mimi and Maureen were trying to restrain the flaying body.
Mark was making sickening noises. His deep blue eyes widened in pain .His bloody hands were
clenching and unclenching at irregular patterns. Collins ran over to the bed, telling Mark to breathe.
Machines were beeping everywhere. Roger just stood there. Everything around him seemed frozen.
The body that was seizing seemed still, peaceful. "This shouldn't be Mark." Roger said repeatedly
Out of his trance, he ran over to the bed, trying to grasp Mark's shaky hand. He looked over at
Collins, who was as shocked as he was.
"Call the clinic. Get the ambulence. Hurry!" he said.
Collins nodded in understanding. He ran out of the room, and he used the only phone in the
loft. Roger returned to his position. Mark was still seizing and choking, but he turned his head to
Roger. Roger started to tear up at his friend yet he tried to hide his feelings. He used his other hand
to smooth Mark's hair.
"It's going to be okay Mark." he said weakly.
Gently, he felt Mark touching his hand. All was silent. Even as Collins entered the room.
"Phone's dead." he said.
The rain started to attack the window, but the bohemians paid little mind to it. Instead they
focused on the frail body lying helplessly in the bed. The pale face that grimaced in pain despite the
machines that were beeping loudly. The thin chest struggled to exhale a single breath. Roger looked
into Mark and had enough of it. "I'm the one who should deserve this. Not Mark. Oh god, not him."
He said to himself. As gently as he could, he lifted Mark's boy from the bed. Everyone stared at him.
"Roger honey, what are you doing?" Mimi asked.
He started to turn at her. "What the hell does it look like Mimi? He asked.
"Rog, leave Mark on the bed,. We will get help." Maureen said.
"When?!" Roger screamed. "When Mark is dead, or when the storm stops? Or how about
when our goddamn phone works? Is That what you mean?"
Nobody answered the question. No one wanted to. Deep down, there wasn't much time. As
Mimi draped a blanket over Mark's shivering body and Angel grabbed the heart monitor, Roger smiled. Everyone exited
the loft, Maureen opening every door in their way as they carried Mark's body to the streets, careful not to drop him.
They walked down the six blocks to the clinic. After entering the grim waiting room, they were motioned by the grim
faced secretary to the Gurney. Gently, they placed Mark's body on its cold metal body. Mark wasn't even shivering
anymore. In fact, he was acting calmer, sleeping. Two orderlies came to take Mark into the examining room. Akind faced
doctor grasped Roger on the shoulder.
"Mark is in good hands, Mr. Davis. We will call you in a little while. Please wait here."
He left the room, the metal doors closing on the group. The group that sat in hard plastic chairs,
waiting for a word about their weakest members.
A/N I am not going to kill Mark. I will have the next chapter up soon. This time, I promise. Again, I apologize for the wait. Please read and review and thank you for supporting me.