Do you know how?

Today is World AIDS day. Three years ago today I wrote an essay for a scholarship, taking up a character of a teenage girl who faces a very tough situation in her life. I'm fortunate to not actually know what she is going though. My homeland though is not anywhere close to stabilizing its HIV/AIDS epidemic, and once again my heart goes to all those people around the globe who are forced to value life's every moment.

I Don’t Know How

How? How? Do you know HOW? I've asked it a million times never finding the answer. I'm still whispering it over and over. There is no strength left to yell it out loud. No strength in me any more.

I am laying in a huge white room with a long row of standard hospital beds. A beam of light comes through the hole of an old curtain revealing all the tiny particles of dust swirling in the air. I used to hate dust. Now it doesn’t matter any more. Nothing seems to matter. Only that question.

I don’t know how long it has been since I arrived here. I could never keep track of time. Maybe I should have. Not much of it’s left now. Oddly, people tend to understand how precious something is to them only when they are losing it. Depression, loneliness, stress…I've thought about suicide several times, even considered it seriously once, but then got too scared. No, I didn’t appreciate life as I ought to.

An elderly couple, our neighbors, called an ambulance after hearing my bloodcurdling howls. I was still holding that white envelope while riding the car whose driver ignored all the traffic lights. A real while after reading its content, I clenched the letter in my fist. I was so shocked, my body refused to move, even tears then made no noise. I couldn’t possibly understand. I still don’t know. Don’t know how.

All my life I was pretty average. Went to a regular school, studied boring classes, played games, and wanted to become popular. I remember that freshman year when several girls from our class got together at Tanya’s to hang out after classes. Tanya was a real prep. Everyone wanted to be pretty and cool like her. She was the first one dating at our class, and had several guys following her all the time. That was the first time I got invited over to Tanya’s. We talked about all sorts of girly stuff, discussing those who didn’t get to be invited. Tanya let me use her really awesome manicure to do her nails. Girls like her, did this stuff all the time. I didn’t have much experience with it and had no idea how sharp the scissors I used were at the time. Cutting away her cuticles, I accidentally made a cut in Tanya’s finger. She screamed and pushed me away very painfully. There was so much blood all over her carpet. I was really freaked out. The party ended soon after, as well as my hopes to become popular. Tanya never invited me over again. In a few months, in the middle of the school year, Tanya’s family suddenly moved away. Nobody really knows why. Who cares actually?

By the time I was a junior in high school, there were only a few people who remembered that this stupid accident ever occurred. I struggled with passing classes, my folks kept arguing all the time, and I always had to stay with my little sister. No wonder I still didn’t have a boyfriend. That winter we got a new kid in our history class. His name was Ben, and he got to sit next to me. The guy was unbelievably handsome and, as most new people, drew a lot of attention. We continued sitting together till the end of the year, and over time I secretly developed a crush on him.

I remember that special time when Ben waited for me after classes and asked me to go out with him. It was as simple as that. I still can’t believe it. We started dating. I knew Ben had had several girls before me. I actually felt more special this knowing that someone so popular chose to date me.

One time, I was going to stay overnight with Kate, but she had her boyfriend over too, and I felt left out staying with them. I called Ben. That night mom didn’t expect me home anyway. I remember that sweet kissing and his hands sliding when he put me on his bed. That was my first time. At school they told us about condoms and all that crap in health class. I didn’t really listen. I knew Ben was very experienced in this stuff. I trusted him. Moreover, Kate said it doesn't matter when you do it for the first time. Later I found out that Ben was cheating on me with that tramp Jenny. We broke up and I got very depressed. That was the time when I thought about suicide. My mom’s sleeping pills were too easy to access.

In a month or so I met Gaby and things got better. She introduced me to her company. They were all punks. We hung out together all the time. Sometimes I skipped classes sleeping over at Gaby’s when my folks argued too much. Gaby’s boyfriend, Tom, even got me a tattoo for free. You should've seen my mom's face when she found out. She was so mad that she tried to lock me up at home for two weeks and turned off our phone. She doesn’t understand. She never really cared to.

Then was our school's Blood Donation Day, just four days ago. I was finally 17 that year and got to donate blood for the first time. To be honest it wasn't so much about helping others. It was a cool place to hang out and I got to skip Algebra with Mrs. Bromly, whom I hated so bad. I got a shirt and a very sweet rubber bracelet.

I was still grounded when I was getting ready to sneak out to Gaby’s place. Before leaving I decided to check the mail. There was only one white envelope from our City Hospital addressed to me. Odd…

I am laying in this huge cold room, still with no answers. I have absolutely no clue how I got AIDS.