• At the age of nineteen, I am lying in the hospice; it has become more like a home to me, then my actual home. I was diagnosed HIV positive two years ago. The doctors seem quite surprised that I am still alive, as am I. I suffer, I suffer a lot for my actions I did when I was young. When you are young, you feel as if you’re invincible to the world, as if the world is yours to take hold of. The pain that I suffer each day is never cured by the many medications they give me. The pain isn’t actually physical anymore; I went numb a long time ago. The pain was emotional. My life isn’t worth it anymore. I want to stop, I want to stop living. But, maybe my wish will come true soon.

    My doctor, Dr. Greene came into my room this morning. His face was saddened. The wrinkles of his eyes were drooped downwards. He was not smiling as he usually was. My mother wasn’t in yet to visit me, and he wanted to tell me before anybody else knew. Dr. Greene walked over to the corner of the room, pulled up a chair, and placed it down beside my bed. He looked at me, I look at him, and I knew what was coming. “Rachelle.” He spoke, his voice was sadder than his face. “We have just gotten the recent tests in, and it doesn’t seem like you’re going to live for longer than a week.” He took in a breath. “I am sorry.” You’d think that doctors would be use to telling their patients that they were going to die. But for the two years I have been here, he almost became my best friend. He would visit me every day, not only because he had to, because he wanted to. He was a very joyful man; he would make you happen even on your most depressing days.
    “It had to happen eventually.” My voice was raspy, I was trying so hard not to cry, as much as I couldn’t wait for my life to end, there were things that I was going to miss.
    “Here’s your medication.” Dr. Greene passed me two little containers holding various pills, different colours, shapes and sizes. His face was no longer looking at mine; he was unable to look at her any longer. “Ring the nurse if you need anything.” He spoke, and walked out of the room. I didn’t blame him, I was almost about to burst into tears.

    Only two people ever visited me; my mother and Damien. My father no longer comes before a year after I was diagnosed, he committed suicide. He was unable to watch his own daughter suffer any longer, and he had hung himself in front of their house. He started getting depressed when I became a user. If anything, I wish I could turn back time... I wish I had never met Damien.

    Damien; He was the one that got me into this situation. He was the one that got me into drugs. Back in middle school, I was never the most popular, or prettiest, or even smartest girl around. So, as I sat at the back of the cafeteria, alone, eating my apple, he came up to me. I was so shocked, because he was absolutely gorgeous. Dark brown wavy hair, which was always, styled the right way, deep brown eyes that could make any girl swoon... And believe me, they did.

    We became good friends after that one day in the cafeteria. Each time I would look at him, my heart would flutter. But I knew nothing between us would ever happen because he didn’t date. He hardly ever made even friends. He was unattainable in that aspect. As we got closer as friends, we started to hang out more. One day after school, he invited me over to his house. He lived with his older brother, who as well, was overly attractive. He told me his parents died a long time ago, so it was only his brother and him. As we entered his house, he opened the fridge up, and tossed over a beer to me. I looked down at it, my eyes grew wide. “I-I don’t drink.” I said and my voice was shaky. It was actually the first time I even held an alcoholic beverage. Damien just looked at me and laughed.
    “It is only one beer? What is that going to hurt?” He asked rhetorically.
    I tried to smile up at him, but it looked fake. “Oh... Right, I guess so then.” I said, and took off the cap, and drink a sip, I almost gagged, it was the most putrid thing I have ever tasted in my life, but as he was looking at me, with a sly grin on his face, all I could do was smile back, and take another swig.

    Since that moment, Damien has gotten me into harder stuff. It went from alcohol, to cigarettes, to marijuana, and then the harder drugs. One bad needle... One bad needle is what got me into this situation. It was funny though. That night we were shooting up together, and I was the only one that got AIDS... We even used the same needle. That is what I didn’t get, I never could understand why I had to die, and he didn’t.

    Damien felt responsible that I was dying, so that is the reason he would visit each day. Half the time, I didn’t want to see his face, but he would sit in the chair beside my bed each day, and stare out the window. He would leave when visiting hours were over, but even when he wasn’t there, I still felt his presence. Each night, I would dream about him, each dream turned out to become a nightmare, and they got worst as each night progressed. Every nightmare I had, I ended up dying in his hands. Ironic, isn’t it?

    The day my mother found out about my last week, she broke down into tears. The worst thing that could ever happen to a mother was happening, and I felt so bad. It’s disastrous when a parent learns that they are going to lose a child. It was even hard when she figured out that I became an addict. She was mad at me... But she wasn’t mad in the sense that she never wanted to see my face again... She was just terribly disappointed. If I could do anything in the past, I would have never gotten into drugs, and wrecked my life.

    Each day pasted as if a snail was trying to run a marathon. I would lie in my bed, my thoughts numbing my pain. I felt as if I was letting down those that still believed in me. I would try to keep living if I had that choice. Seriously, if I actually wanted to be dead, I would’ve committed suicide when I found out I had AIDS.

    A week has past, and I knew this was the last night of my life, I knew that I wouldn’t be able to live once I fell asleep. My mother came in today, but it hurt to see her face, it was so red, and it looked as if she had been crying this whole week nonstop. I told her that I loved her, and that she needed to leave, it would only pain me more to see her this way any longer.
    Damien had also come in today. But his face had no tears on it. He knew it was coming, and it didn’t look as if it hurt him as much as it did my mother. He sat beside my bed, and grabbed my pale hand. His hands were cool, and they felt refreshing. “I’m sorry.” He whispered into my ear.
    “It was never your fault.” My voice sounded parched, I had also been crying today.
    “It was...” He thought about it for a couple of seconds before replying once more. “But I will make it up to you... Tonight.” He emphasized the last word.
    “You’re crazy...” I was out of breath, it hurt to speak. I didn’t believe him. I thought I would be dead by then anyways. Visiting hours then ended, and Damien had to leave my side, I did not want to let go of his hand. But I did, and watched him stride out of the room with ease.

    That night, I tried not to fall asleep, for when I did, I would never wake up again. There then was a breeze in the room that sent chills up my spine. I tried to sit up in my bed, but I was unable to do so. I then heard a voice in my ear, “You don’t need to die tonight...” The voice whispered. It was dark; I was unable to see anybody else in the room.
    “I don’t understand.” I spoke, the clearness of my voice, even shocked myself.
    The voice chuckled, “Tell me you trust me.” She could now tell that the voice was male.
    “Alright, I trust you.” She spoke, fear was apparent in her voice, but she had nothing to lose.

    I could then see deep brown eyes staring into mine, and at that moment, I knew exactly who it was. “D-Damien?” I stuttered.
    “Shhh...” He whispered soothingly into my ear. I could then feel his cold breath on my neck. My body tensed as I could then feel a sharp implement piercing into my neck. I gasped out, wanting to scream out, but my vocal cords wouldn’t cooperate. I felt as if my soul was leaving my body, and into his. I never did once believe in vampires or anything else that was not human, so all of this was quite a shock. He then withdrew his fangs, and looked up at me. Pulling something quickly out of his pocket, he cut his own wrist, and placed it up to my mouth. “Drink this.. And you will never have to worry about AIDS ever again.” I couldn’t speak, all I could do was lift my head up to his wrist, and let his blood seep into my mouth. It was vile, but I couldn’t pull myself away. As his blood entered my body, I felt as if I was cured. The pain had vanished.

    Damien then picked me up out of my bed, and carried me in his arms out the window. The fresh air entered my lungs, and I felt as if I could do back flips. It had been quite some time since I’ve been out. It wasn’t as if they wouldn’t let you out... I just couldn’t bring myself out of my depression. But now; I felt alive. He ran through the city streets as if he was flying. In seconds, we arrived at his house. His brother was standing in the doorway, already knowing that this event was going to happen. “Walter, take Rachelle up to the bedroom.” Damien spoke, handing me off to his brother.