So, I'm a little upset with life in general at the moment...I haven't really left my home town other than to take my sister to camp since school let out on June 5th. So I'm going to vent some of my emotions through writing. Don't read if you don't like violence. Slightly random...can't say I didn't warn you! Disclaimer: If I were Jonathan Larson, I wouldn't be writing this!

Line April 23rd, 1998

"Zoom in on Roger, reading the Village Voice for the third time, trying to ignore me," Mark narrated as he walked around Roger.

"Mark, for fuck's sake! Get your fucking camera outta my face. Today is hard enough for me. I really don't need your help."

Mark clicked off his camera. "Roger, look, I know that it's hard for you, hell, it would be for anybody,"

"Mark, what the hell would you know about it? Your married to the love of your life, you're both healthy, and, never mind."

"Never mind what Roger? What do you know?"

"You'll find out at dinner tonight."

"Roger, I know it was hard for you to lose her. Mimi shouldn't have died, not like that."

"Yeah, she shouldn't have; I'm the one who should have died that night!"

"Roger, she did it to save you! Roger, you're still here for a reason; there's a reason that Mimi was hit and not you. You just have to find out what that reason is."

"Don't give me that sentimental shit Mark," Roger said. "I don't believe in reasons, or purposes in life, you know that."

"You used too," Mark said in an undertone.

"That was before the love of my life was taken from me by that driver who fell fucking asleep at the wheel."

"Roger you have to stop blaming yourself for what happened!"

"I'll blame whoever I damn well please."

"Is now a bad time?" Tasha, Mark's wife asked.

"No, I'll leave you two alone." Roger grabbed his jacket, and headed out the door.

"What's going on?" Tasha asked.

"Today is exactly three years from when Mimi died. Roger's still upset."

"We have to give him time; did he tell you what he did that night?"

"No, I knew he was taking Mimi out to dinner, but other than that, he didn't tell me anything."

"Mark, he proposed that night. Mimi died with the engagement ring on her finger."

Mark let out a sigh. "Shit, why didn't he tell anyone?"

"Because he thinks that because she died that ring has no more significance. That the proposal never happened."

"Tasha did he tell you all this?"

"I'm a journalist; Mark, I notice these things and can observe what people are thinking through their actions. Now, this day has some happier significance, for us anyway."

"What? Roger was going to say something, but didn't..."

"Mark, this day doesn't hold just death anymore, it holds life." Mark thought long and hard about what this could mean, but came up with nothing. He gave Tasha a confused look. "Mark, sweetie, I'm pregnant."

Line Roger's POV

I went up to the roof, knowing Mark and Tasha would want to be alone. To my surprise, I wasn't the only one up there. A female was up there sitting on the ledge of the building. She looked up at my footsteps, but her eyes seemed glazed over. She looked back to the ground, her long reddish brown hair falling in front of her.

"What's up?" I couldn't help but asking. Most of the time people only came up on the roof to sort things out when something was troubling them.

She looked up again. Now that I was closer I could see the tear stains that ran down her face. A folded piece of paper in her lap.

"What is it?" I asked. She merely threw the paper onto the roof at my feet. I stooped to pick it up. It was a sheet of paper much like the one that had contained my death sentence. I opened the tri-folded paper and read:

Name: Avery Lynn StephinsD.O.B: June 16th, 1978

HIV: positivePregnancy: positive

"I'm only nineteen fucking years old. What the hell I'm I supposed to do?"

"Avery?" She looked up again. "What's your apartment number?"

"Fourth floor, number 402."

"Can I help?"

"I don't see how anyone can. I've got a death sentence, and a child."

"Who?"

"My sleazy boyfriend who walked out on me last week, after I had gone to take the test." I couldn't help but feeling the need to help this young girl out. Was Mark right? Is this my purpose?

Line

Okay so that's chapter one. I'm typing chapter two as soon as I've posted this.