Notes: I'm updating this for many reasons. 1) High School is starting, and since there's those little jitters, I decided to write a bit. 2) Since most of my summer has been wasted hanging/partying with people, I'm ashamed that I haven't been using this as my writing outlet. 3) I'm in the mood for some angst! How about you? Ha. If you want to know what's been up with me, the link to my often-updated-Livejournal is on my homepage. There you can read all about me and my bitching... and stuff. Ha. Here we go. Oh, and this is mainly fluff. Get over it.

Roger took a long walk. Yes, he needed something to clear his mind. God, he could still hear April's words ringing in his ears. He could barely stand it.

Her soft, sweet voice filling his mind with cryptic phrases. Those only mingled in with his own wretched thoughts. This was a deadly combination.

Feeling the little bit of food in his stomach begin to churn and flip, he made an abrupt swerve to a darken alley and spilled the minuscule contents onto the ground.

Nearly ripping off his coat, he used it to wipe his mouth instead of his own hand. Feeling the cool wind dance along his bare arms, Roger shivered. God, it was setting in.

No, His mind screamed, It isn't the illness setting in. It's her words.

Pulling himself together, Roger flung his coat over his shoulder and started his way home. In the back of his mind, he knew he didn't really want to be home. No, not with April. Not with her... her baby. God, him as a father? He couldn't take of himself or April, none the less a baby! There was nothing worse than being a disappointing father. He saw enough of that from his own dad.

Roger kept his eyes low from the passing masses. He could almost feel a neon sign above his head, blinking with the words: "HORRIBLE AIDS-RIDEN FATHER" in bold. Therefore, his eyes watched each footstep he took.

Our lives are like seconds... here, but now they're gone. April's spirit whispered in Roger's ear. Unbeknown to him, April was right on his heels. She had a pit stop to make before she made her way to heaven, if that was where she was chosen to stay.

"Shut up, April," Roger growled to himself, pretty sure he had gotten a few weird looks from people. However, he wouldn't look at them. It was only April in his mind, her voice ringing.

Like footsteps too, Roger. Your footsteps. You can't take them back. Have you ever thought of that? Like walking in snow... once you have made that footstep, it's there forever -even if you try and cover it. She whispered next, floating only slightly at his ankles now. Slowly, she was being rose upwards. April slipped her arms around his waist, wanting vainly to stay on Earth with him. Yes, even after her deal made just moments ago with a razor blade.

Roger hissed at the warmness around his waist. God, he was losing it now. His beautiful girlfriend was at home, probably sleeping. That's right, sleeping happily. He thought.

You don't even know how deep of a sleep, April bit at his ear, but he couldn't really feel it. No, not with the coldness nipping at the same time.

Her feet were now leveled at the backs of his knees. Roger, I love you, but I have to go. Are you going to be alright?

What the hell do you think, April? He growled to his inner vision of his adorable girlfriend. You're not going anywhere.

Please don't fear the reaper, Roger. He only does what's best. If you're smart, you'll cheat and choose your own time... be with me. April then floated away and faded like an old favorite shirt that had been washed too many times. She was gone; back at the loft, the sufficient amount of blood was spilled into the bathroom, and Mark had just walked in needing to take a piss.

Surprise, surprise.

Roger could feel coldness hug his hips now, and he sighed. He could go home and tell her he was sorry, then the coldness would subside. Yes, only then would go away.

Little did he know as he strode back to his not-so-humble abode, that the coldness he felt would become permanent.