That's None of Your Business

I hate putting in job applications. I mean, don’t get me wrong. I’m in desperate need of a job, so I’ll go through whatever process I need to go through. But there’s always that one question. Right when you’re at the end of the application. The job or company always asks you “Do you have any disabilities or illnesses that may interfere with your work?” Then, they give a long list of said illnesses to choose from. And why… Why does the first illness listed always have to be an autoimmune disease such as lupus or HIV/AIDS? Like, that’s none of your business. But since you want to make it your business, let’s get into it.

Yes, I have HIV. I don’t like telling everybody that one little tidbit because it seems as soon as I tell someone, they step back from me, as if they can catch HIV from me breathing on them or just from them standing close to me. Or they give me a look. You know the look I’m talking about. A look of shock, horror. Disgust. As if I chose to have HIV and not the other way around. Y’all have no clue what I’ve been through. You don’t even know my story. But since we’re here and you’re giving me the look as if I’m the most despicable thing on this Earth, let’s do it. Let me tell you how I caught this disease that I absolutely cannot get away from. That I have to live with for the rest of my life. That I once was ashamed of. But not anymore.

It was my junior year of college and I had just broken up with my high school sweetheart, James. My name’s Kelli, by the way. Anywho, James and I had been together since we were 14 years old and just beginning high school. It honestly amazes me every time I think about all the challenges we faced together in high school just for us to get to where we were at that point. All the many times James could’ve cheated on me, what with him being the star basketball player at school. There were plenty of girls that wanted James. But he held out for me because he truly loved me. We were in love with each other.

James took my virginity on the night of our senior prom. I know, I know. That sounds hella cliche, right? But it was a beautiful night, nevertheless. James had already lost his virginity prior to us beginning to date in high school so he knew what to do. Well, somewhat. It did take him, like, 10 minutes to put the condom on, the RIGHT way. But after that, it was magical. He made me feel so comfortable with him and it was like, after that night, I knew he was the one. Or so I thought.

James received a basketball scholarship to one of the top schools in the country, which meant he was going to be 3,000 miles away from home. Meanwhile, I decided to stay at home and go to school locally. I had dreams of being a famous writer. We both decided that we would do whatever it took to stay together, whether that was flying to see each other as often as we could or even Skyping and FaceTiming. I thought we were doing good because from freshman year to sophomore year, that’s exactly what we did. I would fly to see him on his birthday and vice versa. Then, for the holidays, he would always come back home and we had all the time in the world to spend with each other. I thought we were doing good.

Until one night, James got really drunk and FaceTimed me without knowing he did. That was a night I’ll never forget. I couldn’t see what was going on because wherever he was, it was pitch black dark. But I could hear everything. James was with some other girl. I’m guessing they may have been at her place, in her room or maybe they were in his dorm room, I don’t know. All I know is that I remember picking up and constantly yelling James’ name but he must’ve had his volume turned down on his phone so he couldn’t hear me. I could hear a lot of hustling and bustling around and a zipper being unzipped. I heard some kissing that sounded very rushed but passionate at the same time. Then, shortly afterwards, I could hear the girl moaning and saying how long she had been wanting to do this with James.

I remember screaming at the top of my lungs, while crying. I kept turning the volume up on my phone, thinking that he would be able to hear me but he couldn’t. I could hear James talking back to her, saying how long he had been wanting her, too. His moans sounded the exact same way he would sound when we made love. I couldn’t bear to listen to it anymore so I hung up. I cried all night, just thinking to myself, how could he do this to me? All the years we’ve been together? All the time and effort we’ve both put into our relationship, especially with us being long distance? And of course, I thought to myself, how many times could he have done this and just now getting caught up?

He didn’t call me for 3 days. Guilt, I assumed because I’m sure he woke up from his hangover the very next day and saw that he called me. He never even sent a text. I never called him, either, because I was in pain. I was really hurt by this man. On the 4th day, he called me. Right as I was walking into my dorm room after a long day of classes. It was 6 in the evening.

“Hello?”, I said as I picked up. “Hey K. Are you busy? Can we talk?” I hesitated for a moment but then I thought about it. I hadn’t heard from this man in almost a whole week. Even though I kinda was busy because I had just gotten back to my room after finishing classes for the day and had hella homework to do, I replied back to him, “No. What’s up?” I threw my keys down on my desk and sat my bag down on the floor. I sat on my bed and began to listen to him.

“Look K, I know it’s been a couple of days since we spoke and that’s not like us. We always talk every day and I know why you haven’t reached out to me and the same here. I made a mistake, alright? I got fucked up with Nick and Dion –”

Ahh, Nick & Dion, his roommates. I should’ve known. I never liked them from the beginning.

“Before I knew it, I just – I fucked up,” James said as he choked up. I rolled my eyes at this part because you’re crying? You’re crying? After we haven’t spoke for some days because you knew you fucked up. After I’ve been the one that’s been emotionally distraught and still am… You’re crying? I quickly interrupted him and said, “James, stop crying. Because in all honesty, I don’t feel sorry for you. There’s no telling how many times you’ve done something like this and I can’t even take you seriously with all this crying because if anyone should be crying right now, it should be me.”

James got quiet for a moment and replied back, “This is my first time ever doing something like this to you, K. You know I would never hurt you intentionally. I just got really drunk and lost control of the situation.” I pulled the phone away from my ear and laid it down by my side for a second. I could feel the anger and tears welling up in my eyes. I picked the phone back up and said, “You lost control of the situation or you lost control of your dick?”

“K, come on, man. Don’t be like that.” “No, James! Don’t you be like that! I can’t fall for that excuse because it’s a piss poor ass excuse! Yes, we are young and supposed to get drunk and have fun but, you’ve always called me before you felt like you were getting way too ahead of yourself. What happened to that?! Huh?!”

Silence. Then…

“So what do we do now? Are we breaking up? After all this time? I can’t just say I’m sorry and we move on? You know how much I love you, Kelli. Come on, baby,” James cried into the phone. I put the phone down by my side again and let it sit for a moment. I let the tears just run down my face before I got up to grab some tissue to wipe them away.

“Kelli? K? You still there, babe?” I picked up the phone and quietly said, “Yeah.”

Silence.

“So do you forgive me?” I thought about it and remembered some of the things my mama used to tell me. There were so many things but, one particular line I remember her saying to me was, “Once a cheater, always a cheater.” I said it out loud. “Once a cheater, always a cheater.”

“What baby?”, asked James.

I repeated it again. A little bit stronger this time. “Once a cheater, always a cheater. No, I don’t forgive you, James. And I’m done. With you and this relationship. Goodbye.” I hung up on James and that was the last time I spoke to him.

James had tried to reach back out to me for weeks after we broke up. He even sent me flowers, chocolates. Even a couple of my favorite lingerie pieces from this store I shopped at locally. He almost had me with the lingerie but, I thought about my mama and how she went through the exact same thing with my dad. That’s one of the reasons I haven’t spoken to him or seen him in over 10 years. He was a cheater, too.

I’m not sure when it started but, I know that my dad cheated on my mother for years while they were married. She stayed around because that’s what a faithful wife is supposed to do. At least, that’s what she thought. Plus, my grandma told her to stay. She stayed with my grandad while he did his dirt back in the day and now, look at them: my granddad is diasbled and bed written and needs my grandma to take care of him. For better or worse, in sickness and health, right?

But eventually my mama got fed up. She got tired of my dad feeling like he could just come home at any time of the night whenever he wanted. She got tired of all the random calls from women at the house, calling specifically for dad. And whenever she would pick up, they’d recognize her voice and immediately hang up or try to call back again an hour later, thinking that my dad was home. It seemed like he was never home, too. If he wasn’t at work, he was “working late”. Sometimes, “working late” would turn into him getting drinks with one or a couple of his co-workers and him not coming home til the next morning because he got way too wasted.

But mama caught on, though. And one day, she had had enough. She packed all of her clothes along with mine and we went to go stay with grandma for a while. Later on, we moved into our own place and mama and dad got divorced. The last time I saw my daddy was the day their divorce was finalized and we were at the courthouse. I remember he looked bad, as if he had just been drinking his life and pain away. His eyes were bloodshot and he kept sniffing as if he was coming down with a cold or something. His appearance was very disheveled, with him wearing a navy blue suit that wasn’t nowhere near pressed or starched and instead of wearing dress shoes, he wore an old pair of blue and white tennis shoes. It was as if he didn’t care about himself, his appearance or life anymore, at that point.

“Go ahead and tell your daddy bye. It’s ok,” my mama leaned down and whispered into my ear. I was just 10 years old. I walked over to my dad who was sitting on a bench, outside of the courtroom, just a couple feet away from my grandma, mama and her lawyers. Even the way he was sitting on the bench seemed as if he was defeated. Like, he knew he would never get his life back. He was staring off into the distance and didn’t even notice I was sitting next to him until I placed my hand on his knee. He looked down and smiled when he noticed it was me. My daddy looked at me and said with a gravelly voice, “Hey baby girl.”

Then, he grabbed me from the side to hug me. I hugged him back.

“I miss you, daddy.” I felt him take a huge deep breath and then he said, “I miss you, too, baby girl. Listen, I’m going to try my best to come and see you, as much as I can. I know your mama’s mad at me and very disappointed in me but, I’m going to try my best to be there for you, no matter what? Ok?”

I looked up at him and I could see tears welling up in his dark brown eyes. I touched his face and his tears began to fall on my hands. I got a good look at his face, not knowing that this was going to be my last time ever seeing him or speaking to him. Remembering those dark brown eyes and his low cheekbones. His beautiful dark chocolate skin that was starting to get wrinkles and the gray hairs in his beard from all the stress that the divorce was causing him. His full lips that whenever he opened them to speak or smile, I would notice the small gap between his two front teeth and all the rest of his beautiful, straight teeth.

I shed a couple of tears myself. Then, my mama called my name. “Kelli! Let’s go, baby!”

I looked back at her and then looked back at my daddy. “I love you, daddy.” My dad grabbed me and hugged me again and said, “I love you, too, babygirl.” I got up off the bench and began walking to my mama. That was the last time I ever saw or spoke to my daddy again. It was on that day, as we were walking out the courthouse, my mama grabbed my hand as we walked across the parking lot to her car. She said to me, “Remember I told you this: once a cheater, always a cheater. I don’t want you to ever have to settle or feel like you have to settle for a man. You are beautiful. WE are beautiful. There are plenty of fish in the sea. Ones that won’t hurt you and will recognize your worth from day 1.” I got into the passenger seat and clicked on my seatbelt, while she did the same in the driver’s seat.

Before we pulled off, she grabbed me by my face and said, “Don’t you ever settle for a man. Ever. You hear me?” I shook my head yes and said, “Yes mam.” She smiled at me, kissed me on the forehead and said, “Let’s go start our new life, baby.” We pulled out of the courthouse and as we were driving to the exit, I remember seeing my dad standing outside of the courthouse, watching our car as we drove away. Sometimes I think back on that day and I think he was waving bye to me but I couldn’t tell because we were so far away. But I remember that day and I remember what my mama told me: once a cheater, always a cheater.

I blocked James from calling and texting my phone and I had him blocked on all of my social media. That was it. The end of a relationship with somebody that I had taken all of this time to learn and know. Now, I had to move on.

James and I broke up a couple of weeks after New Years. With it being my junior year, I knew that I had no time to waste. I needed to apply for internships and scholarships, especially knowing I wanted to go to grad school after undergrad. So, I became more focused than ever when it came to my schoolwork. There were some times where I pulled all-nighters just to turn around and be in my 8am class on time the following day. Eventually, I got tired and needed a break. I was so thankful that Spring Break was coming up soon because I needed to unwind, let loose and have some fun.

My roommates, Angelica and Leah had been talking for weeks about going to the Peach Jam, which was like this crazy, week-long event specifically for college kids to link up and party the whole week of Spring Break. I had no interest in going at first because at the time they were talking about it and paying for their tickets, I was so immersed in my schoolwork that Peach Jam was the last thing on my mind. But luckily, I was able to go due to Angelica giving me the rundown. She was one of the student coordinators of the Peach Jam, so she knew a couple of people had bought tickets but were returning them due to whatever reasoning they had going on.

“Girl, K, the Peach Jam is gonna be so epic! Even better than last year! Go ahead and buy you a ticket so you can be in the hotel with me and Lay and you can ride down there with us, too! It’s going to be lit, girl!”, she exclaimed to me one day when she had just gotten back to the room after work. Like I said before, I really wasn’t interested in going at first but I needed a break. I needed to kick it with my girls. Hell, I hadn’t even been to any parties on campus in a while because of working so much.

“Ok, ok, ok. I’m going to the SA office to pay for my ticket now.”

Before I knew it, Angelica, Leah and I had our bags packed, we all pitched in on gas in Angelica’s tank and we were off to the Peach Jam. It took us about 3 and half hours to get there, coming straight from school. Plus, we didn’t leave until all of us were done with our classes for the day, which was around 2pm. By the time we got to the hotel and checked in, there were a couple of kids from school and other kids from surrounding schools already there. Some were at other hotels trying to get checked in and some just went to stay with friends or family members that stayed in the area. While we were in the room, putting our stuff down, Angelica got a text from one of her friends saying there was a beach party going down right now to start off the Peach Jam.

We all got dressed in our skimpy ass swimsuits, hopped in Angelica’s car and rode out. Once we got there, we realized that the beach was packed. It seemed like everybody and their mama was there but, it really wasn’t nothing but a whole bunch of college kids, getting drunk and getting loose. We told each other that we had to stay together no matter what. And that’s exactly what we did. We had so much fun on the beach that night between drinking, twerking contests, even going out into the ocean for a swim or just to play in the water. There were also guys with water guns walking and running on the beach, wetting all the girls up. We were having the time of our lives that night.

We stayed on the beach, partying until maybe 2 or 3 in the morning. Angelica, Leah and I left and went to go get something to eat at this 24/7 diner that was on the boardwalk. And that’s when I met him. The man that changed my life and gave me this horrible disease. Kingston. He told me to call him King, for short. He was a cook at the diner but I didn’t care. He was fine as hell, too. Tall, maybe about 6’2 or 6’1. Long and beautiful black dreads that went all the way down his back but he kept them in a man bun because of his job. He also had a hairnet on that night. I remember being drunk and Angelica and I were laughing and making fun of the fact he was wearing a hairnet and it was visible.

King cooked and served us our food, while flirting with me the whole time. He had a foreign accent, like he definitely wasn’t from America. That was the first thing I said or asked him.

“Where you from?” He smiled at me, showing off these beautiful and straight white teeth and said, “The Virgin Islands. Me come here when I was a likkle boy, maybe 9 or 10.”

Even though I was drunk, I could feel myself staring at him as if he was this juicy, delicious looking steak that I couldn’t wait to sink my teeth into. He just looked so good, even with his dirty cook uniform on. I could see his muscles through his shirt and I could tell that he was a very fit guy. He kept smiling and flirting with me and I wasn’t stopping him. I flirted back and kept it going. Until Leah started feeling sick from all the shots we had been taking earlier that day. We all decided to go ahead and pay for our food and get ready to head back to the hotel to call it a night. As we were leaving, King stopped me before I got into Angelica’s car.

“Look, me know we just now meetin’ an’ every ting but, me want to get to know ya a likkle better, yeah? Can you stay? Just a likkle longer? Me get off work soon and I just want to talk. That’s it.”

I looked back at Angelica, while she was helping Leah into the car. She was listening and she pulled me to the side and said, “Kelli, you don’t even know this man. And remember what we said before we walked onto the beach: we have to stay together. Don’t go with that man.” I should’ve listened to Angelica but I was drunk and horny. I already knew that I was going to have sex with this man. I had condoms so I was prepared to be safe by any means necessary. But, I didn’t listen to my friend.

“Angelica, we grown, ok? I’m drunk and I’m horny. Look, I’ll be careful. I promise.” Angelica looked at me and then she looked and pointed at KIng. “You better make sure my friend makes it back to the hotel. Safe!” King held up both of his hands, while smiling and said, “No worries, mon. Me take real good care of her. Me promise, yah mon.” Angelica gave me a hug and whispered in my ear, “Be safe, K. I love you.” “I love you, too.” Then, her and Leah pulled off and King and I went back inside the diner.

I remember falling asleep in one of the empty booths in the diner for about 30 minutes until King was officially done with his work shift and ready to go. By now, the alcohol had worn off but I was still a little tipsy. King told me that he knew of an after hours spot that we can go to and watch the sun rise on the beach together. In my mind, I was ready for him to take me back to his place and us fuck until the sun rised. But the after hours spot was ok, I guess. I had no idea what was waiting for me there.

King and I got drinks and before I knew it, I was drunk again. But this was a different drunk that I had never felt before. I felt more sluggish than ever and my body felt really heavy, as if I couldn’t walk on my own. I remember walking on the beach at one point and then falling in the sand, while laughing at myself. King laughed right along with me. As King held me up, we walked along to this secluded, closed off spot on the beach where King said that the reason why they had it closed off was because there was a movie that was being filmed there. It was really private but there’s only so much privacy you can have on a local beach.

I kept telling King that my legs felt like jelly, as if it wasn’t really me walking. Like somebody else was walking for me and I was just there. He kept telling me to relax and don’t worry. That he’d take care of me. We sat down, underneath one of the piers and I remember the sun was slowly but surely rising. I laid down in the sand and felt like I was going in and out of consciousness. I kept laying down and sitting up. I said to King, “I think I should head back to the hotel room with my friends.” But he kept begging me to stay, saying he wanted to just be with me. I didn’t understand what he meant by that until I blacked out. The last thing I remember was King standing over me, completely naked and I fell into a deep sleep.

When I came to, I remember feeling a sharp and burning pain between my legs and I realized that I could hear birds cooing nearby. I opened my eyes and could see the shadows and feet of multiple people walking above me. I was still under the pier. Where I was at with King from the night before. I sat up quickly before realizing I couldn’t sit up too fast. My head started spinning. I looked to my left and looked to my right and there was no King. I could still feel the burning pain between my legs and I reached down and lightly touched my crotch area just to see blood on my fingers and hand.

Then, I realized that I was naked except for the fact my bathing suit bra was still on. I had no idea where my bottoms were and my cover up was laying under my side. “My phone! My phone!” I panicked as I began patting my body down and looking all around me to see where my phone could be. I remember my purse from last night and couldn’t seem to find it anywhere. As I crawled from under the pier, I realized that it was super early in the day but not as early. Maybe like 1 or 2 in the afternoon. I noticed all of the kids in the ocean, playing and splashing around. Some adults were lying around on the beach, trying to get a tan or whatever. It hurt me so bad to walk but I knew I had to figure out where I was and where my purse was. Wherever my purse was, that’s where my phone would be and that’s what I really needed to get to.

As I walked along the beach, I found my way to the boardwalk. It took me a while to get to the boardwalk, too. But by the time I got there, I instantly noticed the 24/7 diner. I also noticed the back of Angelica’s head, with all of its messy, red curls pulled into a loose top knot bun. Leah was standing beside her with shades and a loose t-shirt on, looking as if she really didn’t want to be there but also concerned. They were looking for me. I walked up to them and Angelica instantly turned around and hugged me. She was relieved.

I could barely hug her back, due to the pain I kept feeling between my legs. When she noticed this, she said, “K? Are you ok?” I could feel myself getting emotional and that’s when Angelica, Leah and I walked to the car and went back to the hotel room.

“So, this fuck nigga raped you?!”, screamed Angelica. I winced at her shrill ass voice and said, “Calm down. I’m not even sure. I just know I blacked out.”

“That’s because he drugged your ass, K! Didn’t you say you felt like you couldn’t walk after ya’ll went to that little after hours spot?” questioned Leah.

“That was after we left from there. I think. I don’t know. It’s just all so confusing,” I stated as I threw myself down on the bed.

“K, how is it fucking confusing?! Use your head, sis! This man done got you wasted even more than what you already were, he drugged you, took you to some dark and secluded spot on the beach, raped you and left you there! Like some trash! You are not trash, K!”

I’m just recollecting thoughts, at this point. I’m not sure what he did to me or how he did it to me but, I don’t ever remember consenting to this. I felt sick. I needed to throw up all of these feelings, emotions and this King guy and whatever he may have done to my body that I don’t know about.

“I don’t even feel comfortable staying here for the rest of Peach Jam,” Angelica said quietly.

“Me either,” said Leah.

“We just need to go back home and when it’s time to go back to school, we just link back up then. K, you need to go to the clinic before we go back to school. Just to make sure everything is ok with you.” Angelica stated.

“We need to find this King nigga and blow his spot up!” exclaimed Leah.

“How are we gon find him and I don’t even know where he lives or where he be at? That’s going to take up way too much time and he never even gave me his number last night! You’re right, Angelica. We do need to go home. I need to go home.”

And home we went.

I went to the clinic the next day while being at home during Spring Break. The doctor said that everything was fine. I tested negative for all stds, including HIV & AIDS. So, it was a huge surprise to me 2 months later when I started getting heat bumps on my skin. It was summertime already but, I would get heat bumps on my skin while being on the inside, in A/C. Then, I started noticing these small white bumps forming in the back of my throat and it was starting to make it a little hard to swallow whenever I would eat or drink. I told my mama about it and she said, “We need to take you to the doctor.”

Of course, I had already told her what happened during the Peach Jam but she was with me when I went to the clinic and got tested for the first time. Everything seemed ok then. We booked an appointment with our family doctor, Dr. Jackson, who we’d been going to ever since mama got divorced from daddy. My appointment was for 8am but we didn’t leave until 2pm because of all the tests they ran on me. When Dr. Jackson came back into the room where mama and I were, she told me to go ahead and put on my clothes and to meet her in her office up front. I immediately got scared when she said that because why couldn’t she just come back, tell me to put my clothes on and tell my mama and I good news? That everything was ok and that me and my mama could go home.

I remember locking eyes with my mama and tears started to well up in my eyes. Mama grabbed me and hugged me real tight. She whispered in my ear, “No matter what the doctor says, I’m here, ok. Mama’s here. Imma always be here, ok?” I shook my head yes and said, “Ok,” as I started crying. Mama pulled back from me, wiped my tears away with her hands and said, “You ready?” I shook my head no. She took a deep breath, stood up straight and held out her hand for me to grab hold of. I put my hand in hers and walked behind her to Dr. Jackson’s office.

Once we walked in, Dr. Jackson said to me, “Close the door behind you, sweetie.” I closed the door and mama and I sat down in the chairs across from Dr. Jackson and her desk. Dr. Jackson has always been so beautiful and graceful to me. She always wore her jet black and gray hair in a French roll so I knew that it was long. Plus, she had pictures of her with her kids, her husband and their dogs all along her desk and on the wall behind her, along with the display of her degrees and accolades. Her skin was toffee-colored and she had hazel eyes that she would sometimes hide behind her huge square bifocals she’d wear all the time. She always had glasses with funky patterns and designs on them, too. That always gave me the idea that even though she always had to wear scrubs and her long doctors’ coat everyday, at least she could keep it cute by wearing fashionable glasses.

As we sat down, she pulled her glasses down from her face and placed them in the front pocket of her doctors’ coat. She folded her hands over her desk and looked at mama and I. I could instantly tell she was about to give us some bad news. Her face had disappointment and sadness written all over, as if she really sympathized with my mama and I. And I know she did, even after all of these years.

“There’s no easy way to say this and let me be clear, this is not the first time I’ve had to do this with any of my patients. But believe me, it is a very hard thing to do. I care deeply about the both of you. I really do.”

I hung my head low and began to start crying silently. Mama grabbed my hand and squeezed it really tightly. “Go ahead, doc.”

Dr. Jackson sighed and said, “Kelli has tested positive for HIV. I’m so sorry for the both of you.”

Before I knew it, I screamed out loud and couldn’t hold back the anger, the pain, the embarrassment I felt. My mama just grabbed on to me and held me really tight as I cried and my whole body was just shaking while in her grasp.

I was in shock. Completely hurt and disturbed at the same time. I couldn’t ask myself how this happened because I know how it happened. All I could think about was that night and how Angelica warned me before I even decided to go anywhere with that man.

‘K, you don’t even know this man.’ ‘We have to stay together, remember?’

I even thought about him and how he flashed that beautiful smile and spoke that sexy accent saying, ‘No worries, mon. Me take good care of her.’

That smile haunted me for years. That accent made me sick to my stomach, especially just hearing somebody who had a Caribbean accent. I used to think about that night all the time and I wanted to kill myself. Because how could somebody love me enough to want to be with me after getting raped by a random stranger who also had HIV? I dropped out of school and didn’t go back to get my degree until 5 years later. That was the most horrible time in my life. I fell into a deep depression and I told myself that I never wanted to go outside again.

I didn’t even want to hang with Angelica or Leah, even if it was just at their house because that meant that I would have to be around Angelica’s parents, her twin kid brother and sister or I’d have to be around Leah, her parents and their huge ass, black Brady bunch family. Either way, I knew I would be asked questions about that night or have to face the fake caring faces. You know, the scrunched up face people make when they say they care about you and so, they ask if you’re ok or do you need anything, followed by I’ll always be here for you and your mom. Yeah right.

I stayed in the house for 4 years, not going anywhere and not doing anything. Except for taking my medication, trying to eat clean and heal, in every way possible. It was a hard time in my life because I just knew I would never find love or a decent job, especially since I dropped out of school. But then I watched this one talk show that featured a girl who got raped while she was in college. Her story sounded all too familiar to me until the end when she began to describe her rapist. Then, they showed a picture of him and come to fucking find out, it was him. King.

The same man who had assaulted me before was still out here, years later, hurting the same young, gullible and vulnerable women, just like myself. But this girl was smart, though. And her parents came from money. They hired a search party to find King and when they did, they found him trying to swoon another young lady into “being with him”. It also came out that this man was putting the date rape drug into all of his accusers’ drinks every time he was with him. It’s like he had a plan to give this disease out to all the young women in the world. She wasn’t the only one who had been assaulted by him and contracted HIV. There were at least 100 more girls, maybe even more that he had done this to.

King, who’s real name wasn’t even King or Kingston, was sentenced to 100 years in federal prison due to rape, attempted murder by bodily exchange and drug possession. Although this made me feel good that he was finally off the streets and not hurting anymore young girls, it also inspired me to keep going. I decided to go back to school and finish my degree. But after being out of school for so long and finally getting a degree, my job options changed. I still wanted to be a writer but, as an up and coming new writer, it takes a while before you can get your big break.

And so, here I am. Putting in job applications to be a cashier or a mascot. Anything to just pay the bills. I’m currently 28 years old, staying at home with my mom and stepdad, unemployed and I’m HIV positive. But that’s none of your business. Or anybody’s business, for that matter. Period.