"How long is it going to take?" Mark asked, looking over at April who stared at her phone screen with a concentrated face. He nudged her softly, gaining a surprised look from her.

"It won't take that long." April simply stated, shoving her phone back in her pocket before draping Jason's jean jacket across her arm.

She pushed the car door open, closing it as she stood in front of his small house. It seemed even smaller since the last time she'd visit, her gaze shifting around for any visible camera's the police may have planted. Nevertheless, the girl strolled towards the front door, ringing his door bell and waiting patiently for him.

It seemed to have been longer than she'd expected, he'd almost immediately answer the door – since he had nothing better to do. Getting impatient, April decided to walk inside his home, it wasn't like the two of them were strangers. She was greeted with a tornado of mess...just utter mess.

There were pizza boxes scattered across the floor, some with the round dough still inside, half eaten. Corona bottles decorated the puke stained floor, its wretched smell mixing in with the vomit causing April to gag. 'God, what the fuck happened?' the girl thought to herself, her brows furrowing in disgust and confusion. She'd attempted to hold her breathe for as long as she could, not wanting to add her own addition to his carpet. The empty atmosphere made her feel somewhat creeped out, wondering where half of his furniture had gone to.

Once she stumbled upon his room, her jaw dropped in shock. There was only an air mattress with a flat stool which acted as a nightstand. On the mattress, she saw Jason lying on his backside, choking on something which seemed to be his own vomit. The girl dashed over to him, dropping his jacket to the floor.

"Jason!" April exclaimed, placing her hand behind his back and struggling to lift him up. Her groans made it evident how dire the situation was.

Her goal was to have him throw up on himself, or on her – she genuinely didn't care, as long as he didn't end up choking on his own vomit, she'd be glad.

"Hey! Look at me!" April tapped his cheeks repeatedly, watching his eyes slowly roll to the back of his head as he continued to choke.

Her heart began to race, realizing he wasn't responding to her words or even looking at her. The whites of his eyes looked back at her, causing her to whimper in defeat. The girl's eyes began to become glossy, partially blurring her vision. She felt like she had no choice but to slap him, hoping the painful sting would alert him and save him, but it didn't.

April's index finger and middle finger placed itself under his neck, hoping to check for a pulse. Her own heart stopped when she couldn't find a pulse, staring at him in disbelief as the trail of puke began trickling from the corner of her mouth.

"Jason, I'm going to ask you one last time," Her tone was quiet, her voice breaking indicating she'd been holding onto his survival for too long. "Wake. Up!" April cried, tears beginning to stream down her face.

It didn't take hours for her to be hysterical, bawling her eyes out as she performed CPR. Her throaty groans echoed throughout the empty house, followed by her cries.

"Jason, please, wake up!" April chanted in between her inconsistent sobs, giving his body one last shake before she sat down next to his makeshift bed, crying into her hands.

With swollen eyes, her attention was caught by the messy notepad scattered across the floor. Curiously, she crawled over to it, shakily holding the piece of paper as she read it. Tears began streaming down her face once more as her eyes continued reading what seemed like a suicide letter, including rules April should follow if she ever stumbles upon it.

***

April sat in the ER waiting room with Mark's arm draped around her. She stared at the plain wall rather blankly, her peripheral vision being almost non-existent. The girl had partial hope that Jason would be saved, but after what she had to endure at his home, she was certain only God was able to bring him back. Her mind felt numb, not being able to register the events of tonight or even Mark's comforting hand stroking her shoulder in hopes that her tears would stop staining his favorite t-shirt.

"Jason Lahey?" The doctor walked out, pushing down his surgical mask as he examined the area for the people associated with the patient.

"Yes," Mark immediately looked up, followed by April who jolted up, standing in front of the doctor. He held the emotional teen close to him, fearful of her reaction.

"Unfortunately, we were unable to save him. I am very sorry for your l-" The doctor stated shamefully, being interrupted by girl's loud cry.

April sighed, her heart shattering into a thousand pieces, stabbing at her lungs one by one as she began to feel short of breath. Her cries echoed throughout the ER ward of the hospital, later being muffled as Mark pulled her closer to his chest, stroking her back as his own emotions began taking a toll on him.  The two stood there for a moment, their minds filled with shock.

"April, come on. We have to go." Mark said, his tone of voice being filled with pity and guilt.

It took a lot of effort for Mark to get April out of the hospital, now standing at the entrance as she waited for Mark to bring his car to her. The drive home was quiet, only faint sobs and sighs being exchanged between the two of them.

Once they got home, April clutched Jason's jacket closer to her, hoping the four grams of weed was hidden from Mark and Lisa. Thankfully, Mark didn't pester her, letting her rush upstairs and lock herself in her room. In his letter, Jason specifically mentioned that he wanted April to 'take care' of his strongest strain of marijuana, along with his newly bought weed pipe. In addition to that, he also wanted her to keep his jean jacket, hoping it would bring her a sense of fashion and that she was the only person worthy of keeping it.

The girl kicked off her shoes, laying the jacket out onto the bed. She grabbed a nug, grinding it with her hands rather nervously before packing it into the bowl of the pipe. April grabbed a lighter she kept in her side table, lighting the bowl before sharply inhaling – feeling the strong strain punch her lungs individually. Though she coughed a little, she instantly began feeling light-headed. Jason wasn't kidding when he said it was his strongest strain.

Throughout the night, April smoked through the entire four grams. As she began to feel the 'munchies' kick-in, the girl ransacked the entire kitchen, leaving behind a half empty bottle of Louis Roederer champagne.

***

"April," Lisa called out, sauntering into the kitchen and finding the girl casually eating cereal. "Did you drink the bottle of Louis Reoderer champagne?" Her brows furrowed with disappointment as her gaze was fixated on the girl.

"I don't drink." She lied, reminiscing to the mess she'd gotten herself into the last time she'd drank alcohol.

The redhead sighed, her lips pursing themselves together as she started to become even more irritated with the girl. She opened her mouth to say something, but was interrupted by Mark's hands faintly placing themselves on her shoulder.

"What's wrong?" He inquired concernedly, looking over at April.

"Someone drank half the bottle of Louis Roederer I ordered for the engagement party tomorrow." Her tone was evidently low with discontent.

April stopped eating, placing her spoon discreetly back into the bowl. The minute she heard the words 'engagement party', her heart sank further than it had already been. She didn't dare to look up at the two of them, thinking they'd just flash her a grin, indicating how much of a dumbass April was for believing Mark genuinely wanted to be with her. The girl felt suffocated, feeling as though she couldn't scream, hit or cry her feelings out because she knew the two of them would either rub their rekindled relationship in her face, or they would simply not care.

"She doesn't drink." Mark stated nonchalantly, walking over to the empty fridge, tilting his head in confusion.

"Well, it had to be someone..." Lisa rolled her eyes, going over to the home phone and dialing the number of the company she'd gotten the first bottle of champagne from.

A sniffle squeaked from her nose, a tear falling along her cheek simultaneously. She left her half-empty bowl and got up from the counter stool, going back inside her room without saying another word to anyone.

April locked herself in her room, her back sliding across the door as she broke down crying. She curled herself in a sitting fetal position, feeling empty. Her body struggled to lift itself up, despite feeling empty inside, and treaded slowly towards her bed, making sure to avoid stepping on the empty food containers and wrappers from last night.

Once she sat down, her body felt more comfortable, feeling like this is where she really belonged. April managed to open the side table drawer rather weakly, taking out a Xanax she'd stolen from Mark's medication drawer. She broke it in half, dry swallowing the pill and closing her eyes. The tears from earlier resumed as she began making herself a little bit more comfortable in her bed, wrapping the duvet around her trembling body, practically devouring herself in the cloth. It was difficult for the heart-broken teen to close her eyes and go to sleep, but the pill made it much easier for her, causing her eyes to become heavy by the second.