Cold. I was cold.

I ran down the street, pushing past the crowd, not headed in any particular direction.

I must have looked like a fucking lunatic, running down the street, crying. A lot of people looked up, concerned. But this was New York. Who cares?

Finally, out of breath from running, I made my way to the park, which was beginning to become my second home.

I collapsed onto a bench and sobbed.

"Jesus, Karl," I cried, through my tears, "Why did you have to do it?"

I made a fist and pounded it into the arm of the bench. My knuckles cracked and bled.

Ignoring the pain, I curled onto my side and let my tears run over the rusty metal.

I looked out of the corner of my eye, trying to find the Squeegee Man, who crazy as he was, was a comfort to me.

I sat there for a long time. A tear dripped off my nose.

I waited.

He didn't come. Yet another person was lost to me.

"You okay, Miss?"

I looked up, half hoping that it was him. But I knew even before I looked up that it wasn't.

An elderly man peered at me from under a hood, looking concerned.

"I'm fine," I muttered. I stood to my feet, and quickly began to walk. I didn't know where I was going. But I just didn't care anymore.

I shivered and snuggled further into my coat. My head was hurting again, and my throat and stomach ached from crying.

Finally, exhausted, I plopped down onto my knees.

I knew I was giving in, but I didn't give a damn. I wasn't stupid. I knew that sooner or later my disease would conquer me.

I lowered my head gently onto the hard ground, and closed my eyes and dreamed,

I was sprawled on my back, my face turned toward the sky, and rain pounding down on top of me.

Kip appeared.

"Whore," he growled, and reached out towards me.

I tried to make a sound, but I couldn't move my lips.

Suddenly, he disappeared.

He was replaced by a tall slender figure, sitting with his legs crossed on the ground beside me. He was examining his nails.

I knew him.I knew HER.

"Angel?" I choked, finding my voice.

She dropped her hand and slid it into the pocket of her red overcoat.

"Hey, hon. I've missed you."

I gaped at her.

She snuggled over towards me and slipped my hand through hers.

"Don't give up now, Meems. There's so many people who care about you, so many people worrying about you right now."

"Not Roger," I blurted out, "He hates me now."

A sad look came across Angel's face. She shook her head.

"Honey, you've got it all wrong. The boy's still crazy about you. He misses you. Right now he's thinking about you the same thing that you're thinking about him. Damn." She shook her head, "Straight couples are just plain strange."

"And what about you Angel?"

She frowned. "What about me?"

You gave up. And Collins loved you.

"Mimi, honey, what you two have is special. It's not ready to die yet." She sighed. "It was my time to go though. Sometimes we just can't help ourselves."

She got to her feet, and pulled me up.

"Go back home, Meems. I promise it'll be alright." She pecked me on the cheek.

"Oh, and. . . give Collins a kiss for me, 'kay hon?"

"Okay," I whispered.

Suddenly, everything began to fade. Angel disappeared.

"Mimi?"

I opened my eyes, finding myself on the cold concrete ground.

"Roger?" I whimpered.

Suddenly, the face peering above me disorientated and transformed into Maureen.

"Oh, God," she said quietly. "Pookie, come here! It's Mimi!"

Joanne appeared beside Maureen, and I felt a sudden warmth that I'd missed ever since I left the loft.

"Roger?" I said, looking around to see if he was show up too.

"We'll take you to Roger, Honey. God., here Pookie, help me lift her up."

The two of them gently lifted me of the ground, supporting my weight between the two of them.

Tired, I rested my head against Maureen's shoulder, beginning to drift off.

Angel's words rang in my ears.

"What you two have is special. It's not ready to die yet."

A small smile escaped my lips.

"Everything's gonna turn out fine, Hon."

And I believed.

No Day But Today! :-D