Whispers in the Night

Dear Aunt Theresa,

I thought maybe I should explain some things. I don't know if anyone really understands it all and I figured you, at least, might understand. Or, at least you might not judge me like everyone else seems to. I've been trying to explain, trying to tell cousin Sara and cousin Ellie what happened, but I just can't. It's so hard to go back through it, to relive it. I tried to forget but it's hard to. It's really hard. And I really wanted to forget, too. I really did.

To be honest, I'm afraid. I know there's not much time left. I feel weak all the time now. All the time. I didn't realize it would take over my body so quickly but, I seem to be rather susceptible to it. I'm susceptible to everything now. I keep thinking back to the day I got the phone call, to the day when my whole world changed.

She told me over the phone, Angie Lopez from Carter BloodCare. She didn't even seem to care that much. She just said, “Carrie Robinson, you tested positive for the human immunodeficiency virus test.” She sounded bored, even, like she made these phone calls all day long. I didn't know what to say or do or think. I couldn't believe it. I didn't even know where I would have gotten it. I just couldn't believe it.

I dropped the phone that day and broke it. I remember Alyssa freaking out when I sat down and just started to cry and then Mom ran into the room, wondering what all the fuss was about.

I didn't want to tell anyone what I'd just found out. I just wanted to keep it a secret. But...I couldn't. I couldn't. I had to tell my parents, I had to to get treatment. Otherwise...I knew I would die. So, I told her. Actually, I didn't tell her right then. I excused myself and stayed up in my room for hours, until after dinner. I spent some time praying and talking to God and...He didn't give me an answer about it, but...I guess it was just comfort knowing He loved me no matter what.

After that, I was able to face Mom and Dad with the truth. It was still hard...man, it was hard...I could hardly breathe...but, I knew, somehow, God was working this thing out.

I still remember the way Mom and Dad looked when I told them what Angie Lopez from Carter BloodCare had told me. I still remember. Their faces...they were so disappointed. I almost couldn't stand to look at them. They wanted to know how it had happened, what I was hiding. And, I told them everything.

I let it spill, all about Brett, about the party I went to with Cecil on July 14, 2004. I wasn't trying to be bad. It wasn't even a bad party. There wasn't any alcohol or anything. But, Brett...Well, I knew he was bad news to begin with. He was always with a different girl and, well...he'd been making crude comments toward me for months, I just tried to ignore him but...at the party...I guess, when I put my Sprite down, he saw his chance. I'm not a hundred percent positive that he slipped drugs in my soda, but...knowing what happened, how much I remember and don't remember...well, it's really the only explanation. I wasn't drunk, I wasn't high and there's a chunk of my memory that's just...gone. Cecil said that I was acting weird for awhile. Anyway, all I know is that, when I woke up, I was in a strange room with Brett, alone and...I guess I'm glad I don't remember the rest.

Brett acted like he cared about me, like he wanted to make sure I was okay and that's why he stayed in the room while I lay there, unconscious. Yeah, I'm sure that was the reason. I heard my cell phone ring and had to find my jeans to get it. They were on the floor . I was too groggy to put anything together at that moment. As soon as I answered and talked to Cecil, Brett slipped out of the room.

Cecil was really worried about me because she hadn't seen me for awhile. She had been searching for me for half an hour. I told her I was okay. I still hadn't fully realized why Brett had been in the room with me. I told Cecil that I'd meet her at her car in a few minutes. It wasn't until I was pulling my shirt on after hanging up the phone that I understood what had happened.

It was everything I could do to not vomit and scream at the top of my lungs at the same time.

I don't really remember much of what happened after that, either. I was kind of numb. Cecil drove me home and I took a shower for an hour, I think. I just felt so dirty, so used. I scrubbed my skin til it was red and even then I didn't feel clean.

I didn't really know what to do after that. Everyone always says to tell someone, but who could I tell? This was Brett Parker, here. He was a clean kid, or he was supposed to be. There was no way anyone would even believe me and, even if they did, what would they think of me? Everyone would think differently of me. They'd probably see me as dirty, as used, just how I felt. Plus, I just couldn't imagine how horrible it would feel to describe everything to someone. I just couldn't. I didn't even want to talk to God about it.

So, I didn't. I just kept quiet. Instead of telling Mom and Dad or anyone else, I just decided to keep the information to myself. Only, it drove me crazy. It was on my mind all the time. I was jumpy and antsy. I didn't want to look at anyone in case they could tell how dirty I was. So, one day, I just decided to forget it. I didn't think about it and I tried to move on with my life. I pushed the memory deep into the dark recesses of my brain and it stayed there for two years.

Until Angie Lopez from Carter BloodCare called.

After I told them everything about Brett and the party, Mom and Dad didn't look disappointed...angry, yes, but not at me. And, not disappointed. They believed me. That was a relief, for sure. Dad wanted to find Brett, but he had disappeared awhile back. No one really knew where he was.

After that, Mom and Dad put my health on the prayer list. It was real general and everything, so no one really knew what I was sick with. They just knew I was sick. But, then, someone asked Alyssa and, well, she's only twelve, you know? She just answered the question. She wanted her sister to get better, I guess, so she just told them that I had HIV so they could pray for me.

And, that's when it really started.

Cecil brought it up to me and asked me about it. She at least wanted to know the truth from me rather than believing some twisted rumor. She was one of the few. The rest...well, they believe what they want to believe. I don't know who all of them are or what they think happened. All I know is that it's gotten harder and harder to hear the whispers, to see the disapproving, scowling faces. I'm the pastor's daughter and I have HIV. It has certainly fed the minds of gossip-hungry, those who were always searching for someone to talk about.

I don't know what to do about it. I can do very little to rebuild my reputation. Those around me, those that know have attempted to squelch the wild rumors with tastefully-presented truth, but, like I said, they believe what they want to believe. I'm talked about weekly and I often overhear the murmurings of whatever strange story is currently popular. One week, I was apparently prostituting myself to pay for my meth habit. The next, I was a heroin addict who got HIV from a needle. I don't even care about what they say anymore. They've done their worst and I'm stronger for it.

But...still, it hurts. Even though it hasn't killed me...it hurts. I've grown up with these people, I've tried my best to be godly and...I know I've failed at times, but you'd think that they'd give me the benefit of the doubt. The fact that a large chunk of the people in the church choose to believe the lies hurts more than anything. These people are supposed to be my family. Why must they slaughter one of their own?

Dad has tried his best to run interference for me, which has been a tremendous blessing. And, every morning when I see him at breakfast and every night before I go to bed, he prays over me and speaks encouraging words into my life. I really appreciate how much he and Mom have gone through. Their reputation is affected every bit as much as mine is and I'm so sorry that I've caused them this much humiliation. But, thankfully, thankfully, they love me the same, in spite of this ordeal.

One thing that Mom and Dad have taught me is to stay strong in God no matter what. That's an area that I know I have grown in through this. Our whole family has, really. How could we not? When the whole world is against us, God, He's still for us. When everyone's talking behind my back, God speaks words of life to me. He is what has held my family together. Nothing will ever tear us apart, not after this.

I've been in bed a lot the last few months. I just get so tired and sick that I have to sleep. And, when I do...God's so cool like this, He speaks to me. In my dreams, He whispers that He loves me, that He's proud of me, that He's sorry about what's happening to me. He's told me that He feels me pain, my hurt and that He cares about my feelings. He's going to make it all okay, I know this.

I know, though, that it's getting close. And, I guess that's why I'm writing this. I want others to know that God is good, regardless of what they think or feel. I want others to know that you can't always judge a book by it's cover. I want others to know my story and I want them to know the truth. I don't want others to think that all the work that God did in my life was a waste. I don't want His name and reputation dirtied because it appears that I went off the deep end. I want them to know that I have been faithful and He has been more faithful. Even when I thought that I couldn't bear the pain any longer, He was there, bearing it for me. He loves me so much and I love Him. And, I want everyone to know that, despite my circumstances, despite the deceit that swirls around me, God is always faithful and always true. Please tell them for me. Please.

I love you and I hope to see you soon.
Love,
Carrie

Reviews

[Tesh]

Wow, this is very powerful, and I believe its message as well. It makes me wonder if Carrie is writing to an aunt who is deceased who she "hopes to see soon."

I admire writers who can write in the first person point-of-view well, because I usually write in third. I also admire that you told the story from the point of view of a pastor's daughter and were not afraid to talk about God's love.

I must say I agree with a few reviewers about the format of the story. I thought about it, and in letter format it just doesn't seem like it does the story justice. Actually as I was reading, I almost forgot that Carrie was writing to her aunt. I suggest writing about the events in the story as they were happening so that the reader can experience the sad events with Carrie. Don't get me wrong though, I like the letter idea, but it doesn't seem to fit this type of story. However, maybe you could have a scene where Carrie IS writing to her aunt at the end of it.

Overall though, well done! :D

Tesh : )

[Ruby Moon]

i beg to differ from the previous 2 reviews...
it makes me think of a strong willed girl who is dying and wants to get her story out
because that she is dying she is willing to write it so descriptivly for whatever reasons
maybe because she is dying, she do not need to fear
or she hopes that her aunt read it at her funeral and tell the story to everyone
or maybe she didnt mean to write it quite like that but she got carried away with her thought
PS: no one said she mailed the letter ~.^

anyway...sorry about blabbering so much...
the story is straight forward but that doesnt take away the message that God is always there for you
it also doesnt change the fact that it is a touching one

maybe you can use this as the introduction to a longer and more detailed version of each stage she is going through
maybe then we can honestly say that this format is not the best for this story

[Heather Solaequi]

Very, very powerful, but I don't think that this is truly doing your writing justice. You could have made this more descriptive or perhaps turned it into a novel, but you didn't. I don't know whether or not I like that. I feel that putting this into a letter takes away from the power that the story creates.

Really good, and if you wanted to expand it would be even better.

[Emily Robinson]

First things first. The story is beautiful and thought provoking. You have an amazing message to share and you share it well. If I were you though, I might consider putting the story into a different format. Let me explain: This is so amazing, though to me it doesn't quite feel like something that would be in a letter. The descriptions are vivid, --- you have great skill at that--- but when I read them it doesn't quite feel like I'm reading a letter to someone's aunt. (at best I would have to imagine that this must be a close Aunt, though I have never witnessed such a close niece/aunt relationship so it's hard for it to feel real). What formats might I recommend to better frame this story? It could be a beautiful narrative to a theatrical performance or a short film. I can also see how it could work well as a piece written in the girl's diary that she leaves behind and a family member finds, or maybe simply telling the story in the sequences as they happen, where you feel like you are in that girl's shoes and you witness what decisions she makes that lead to what becomes of her life. Your story is still very powerful and thought provoking as it is. The message, and the heart behind it, is beautiful. I want to encourage you to continue writing with your heart always inclined to God. You will never regret it. You are God's vessel.-Emily