April wasn't sure how long she'd been wandering through the unfamiliar streets before she heard voices in the distance. Desperate for some kind of understanding, she began down the street, letting her ears guide her. She was disorientated, to say the least. She should be dead - she knew that much, at least. Was this heaven? Or hell? Or something else that none of them had ever anticipated...
Her clothes were stained scarlet with blood that hadn't quite dried. Still, where the deep gashes on her wrists should have been - had been, last she remembered - there was only pink, puckered skin, which, while tender to the touch, was very definitely well on the way to being healed into slightly raised, angry-looking scars. Still, if she wasn't dead, where the hell was she, and how had she got here? At that point, the people to whom those voices belonged seemed like her only hope of getting any answers.
The voices were coming, she realised, from the main street onto which the road she'd been walking along opened out. April barely paused as she rounded the corner, heading straight for the couple. They were kissing, standing in the middle of the street, and seemed completely unaware of her presence. Oh well; April was sure they wouldn't mind being interrupted too much. This was important, after all.
She was still a little way away when the couple broke apart. April stopped dead in her tracks as the girl's head tilted a little to one side and she was accorded the first real view she'd had of the man. It was....
"...Roger?" she said, the name slipping from between her lips almost without her knowledge or consent. In fact, the sight of him there had push almost all capability of rational thought from her mind. All she could see was him and all she could do was stand there, gawping, her blue eyes wide and full of anguish and hurt.