Narration

Uncertain Fate

by m.m.m.

The year was 1987. I had my first blood test. I was diagnosed as a borderline anemic and given supplements (mostly vitamins) to ward off the onslaught of the dreaded disease. Still, my uncle who was a cardiologist assured me that I was relatively healthy.

I promised myself that I would be extra careful. However, I soon turned into a hypochondriac.

My next blood test was done in 1992. It was over in a few minutes, but the doctor didn’t tell me the results. Instead, he prescribed stress tablets and a mild sedative to soothe my troubled nerves. I took them in a good faith, and I thought that everything would soon be back to normal.

I was wrong, dead wrong. Over the next couple of years, I became depressed and suicidal. My self-destructive tendencies became so bad that I was unconsciously inflicting wounds upon my flesh. I wasn’t exactly what you would call a slasher, but got numerous lacerations on my wrist and arms due to my carelessness. I just didn’t care anymore what happened to me.

It was all because of one mistake I made. I failed to fulfill the promise I made to myself five years ago. I wasn’t careful – far from it. And I blame my ex-boyfriend for everything. Because of what he had done to me, I was now at the risk of being infected with AIDS.

I was his second girlfriend. His first one had more experience. He told me she fooled around before she met him. It was stupid of me to think that what we shared was true love (and I was a virgin then).

Now I look back on that incident with great regret. If only I hadn’t given in to his advances.

He said he loved me. I thought I loved him, too. But I guess my youthful recklessness got the better of me. I have painted myself into a corner. Now I am trapped – and the only way to set myself free is to come out in the open and reveal the fact that I must have been inflicted with HIV.

The symptoms are already there: the...