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<<audio mainsong play>>
<<audio happysong stop>>
<h1>[[The Beginning|Prologue]]</h1>
<img src = "images/prologue.jpg" class="insertPhoto"/>
Your name is <i class= "ruben">Ruben.</i>
You live in a run-down studio apartment in the Lincoln Heights neighborhood of Los Angeles. You share this place with a stranger you found on Craigslist who claims his name is <i class = "george">George</i>, but you suspect he lied to you. You don't mind though; he pays his share of the bills on time and he cooks for you sometimes.
This miserable place would have been more tolerable if you had shared it with a romantic partner. [[But you know exactly why that hasn't happened.|Drug Addiction]]
Wait. [[Something's wrong.|Symptoms of AIDS 1]]
<img src = "images/drug_addiction.jpg" class="insertPhoto"/>
You just got out of rehab, but every time you see a discarded syringe under the bridge, you feel the old, familiar desire for an easy escape from reality.
[[Go Back->Prologue]]When you take a bite from your Chinese takeout, you notice that the Sichuan sauce is much spicier than you remember it to be. When you go to rinse your mouth at the sink, you notice some red spots around the mouth that weren't there before.
[[You hope that it will get better over time.->Symptoms of AIDS 2]]Surprise surprise. It didn't.
No matter how much water you drink, you find yourself on the toilet seat for hours voiding your bowels, and no matter how many Red Bulls you down, you can't seem to perk back up again.
This goes on for a week. Then a few weeks.
[[What in the world is happening to you?->The Doctor's Visit]]<img src = "images/doctor_visit.jpg" class="insertPhoto"/>
You finally bite the bullet and make an appointment at your clinic on Johnson street. You show up the next day, with high hopes that your doctor will save your bowels for once and for all.
Walking into the clinic reminds you of your [[time at rehab->memories of rehab]]. A shiver runs down your spine. Was this a mistake after all?
[[Screw it, time to go back home.->Back home, did not visit]]
[[Screw it, let's head in. What's the worst that could happen?->At the clinic 1]]
<img src = "images/rehab.jpg" class="insertPhoto"/>
The restraints. The isolation. The pain. The abusive orderlies.
While you entered a broken man, you didn't exactly leave whole either...
[[Go back->The Doctor's Visit]]Whew, you really dodged a bullet there. You open your front door and are greeted by the the pile of unwashed laundry. You pinch your nose, grab a beer and head straight to your room.
Just as you close your eyes to consider what other options you have, you hear footsteps at your door. You look up to see George standing in your doorway biting his nails to stubs as usual. "How did your doctor's visit go?", he asks carefully.
You shake your head without saying a word. He understands.
[["Good call."->George's past]]
He beckons to you and you [[follow him out of the room->George tells about healer]].
<img src = "images/george_past.jpg" class="insertPhoto"/>
"Yeah, them doctors are all a bunch of bastards.
Back when I was eight, me mum got into a real bad motorcycle crash. Broke both 'er legs and tore some ligaments to boot. The last time I saw 'er lucid was before she got 'auled on to that bloody ambulance, lights and sirens.
Me mum was a vibrant woman who loved dancing and growing tomatoes in her backyard. She was a changed woman when she got out; always out of it, y'know? The music never played in our house anymore and the tomatoes wilted away. She died mentally long before they found the needle dangling from her cold arm."
This was the first time you'd heard about this...
[[Go back->Back home, did not visit]]He leads you to his room. You'd think from looking at his clean-shaven face and well-oiled hair that his room would be immaculate, but you're surprised to find his dirty laundry sprawled all over the floor. The room smells like lemongrass and sandalwood, and as you look around for the source of the smell, George beckons you over to a small table.
<img src = "images/tells_about_healer.jpg" class="insertPhoto"/>
"Smells great, huh?" He nods towards a couple of incense sticks that seem to be the source of the smell you noticed. "Got it from this broad named Selena, calls 'erself (text-colour:magenta)[Tina Valentina] down Pearl Ave. Goes bonkers over plants, the mental sort, you 'ear? Used to get these bloody, splittin' 'eadaches every night, but after lightin' those sticks, I 'aven't gotten any since! 'ere's 'er card, tell 'er I sent you. I might even get a discount!"
You look down at the card in your hand. You're still a little skeptical, but your stomach ache has gotten better since you set foot in here...
[[Pay Tina Valentina a visit.->Outside Tina's]]
[[Nah, sounds like a scam.->Google Search]]You stand outside the address on the card. This can't be the right place, can it? You look up at a plain blue tent with no decoration save for a sign saying "Dr. Tina Valentina's Apothecary. Marvelous Miracles For Malignant Maladies!" Yeah, this looks very suspicious, but you decide to suspend your disbelief and [[enter the tent->Inside Tina's]]. What's the worst that could happen?Yeah, you're not going to fall for one of those scams again. Especially not after you bought all those "essential oils" from Aunt Carol. You'd normally feel great for making such a good decision if it weren't for the fact that you're still shitting your insides out everyday. No worries, you can always turn to the wisest sage of them all: the internet.
<img src = "images/Search-Engine.svg" class="insertPhoto"/>
None of the conditions you look at quite capture all of your symptoms and your hope dwindles with each new webpage you visit. But after a few more hours of idle surfing, you come across something promising. On a forum for skeptics of medicine, you see a post by a user who seems to have been going through the same thing. Skimming through the wall of text, you read about how he claims to have created an all-natural pill that cured him almost overnight. You eagerly click on the link at the bottom of the post hoping to be free of your misery once and for all, and you're directed to a website selling the medicine for a rather reasonable price.
This looks a little bit too similar to Tina Valentina's operation, but for that price, it couldn't hurt to give it a shot, right? You're out of options, after all...
[[Yeah, you should try them out.->Orders pills]]
[[Not falling for this one again. Time to look elsewhere.->Encounters forum]]
<img src = "images/Inside Tina's.jpg" class="insertPhoto"/>
"Welcome to my humble palace! Coughs, fevers, migraines, gonorrhea, tumors? Gone with a few whiffs of my potent potions! What ailment may I assist you with today?" Tina's many necklaces clacked every time she moved her head and the candlelight glinted off her circular glasses. Her voice was soothing, like she could've narrated bedtime audiobooks on the side.
You tell her about the sores, the diarrhea, the dehydration and the constant misery of the past weeks. You also tell her about the doctor's visit that you bailed on last minute.
She nods her head. She understands.
"Hospitals are a scam, darling; you enter sick and you emerge sicker. My concoctions, on the other hand, are guaranteed to alleviate all your pain. They are all natural, so how could they possibly be bad for you? Here, let me procure the right medicine for you." She hands you plain glass bottle with a murky green liquid inside. "Only cash, darling"
You look at the price tag and hesitate to pull out your wallet. Tina notices and, with her silky voice, remarks, "Worth every penny!"
[[Of course. What's the worst that could happen?->Takes quack medicine 1]]<img src = "images/quack_med.jpg" class="insertPhoto"/>
Two spoons a day and this nightmare will be over. It didn't matter that the goop tasted like shit; it was a small price to pay to feel alive again. After the first two spoonfuls, you almost instantly felt less tired and your stomach felt sturdier. This really was a marvelous miracle!
You see George in the living room, playing Fortnite. You tap him on the shoulder and thank him for the excellent recommendation.
"Glad I could 'elp, bruv. Just you wait, you'll be as right as rain in a coupla weeks. Hehe, can't wait to get my discount!"
It was only a matter of time. [[As long as you take two spoonfuls a day, you should be back to your old self in no time!->Worst ending]]A week passes. Then a few weeks. Then a whole month.
Tina's guarantee really was too good to be true. Your condition never improved: the diarrhea and the vomiting began killing you from the inside out, and the sores only got redder and more inflamed.
You did go back to Tina's to confront her, but all she did was say you must have been taking the wrong dose. Her medicines were a hundred percent effective, after all.
At the end of the month, you find yourself lying in bed, too tired to go to the bathroom to throw up again. George was wrong, Tina was wrong and, most importantly, ''you'' were wrong.
You start to feel better again, oddly. Was the medicine working? But you stopped taking it a week ago.
You close your eyes. Your head feels light, your hands feel numb and the pain disappears. The light streaming through the window begins to take up all of your vision. Then the light takes you...
<img src = "images/worst_end.jpg" class="insertPhoto"/>
[[Restart->The Beginning]]<<cacheaudio "mainsong" "music/Edoy - Leaving.mp3">>
<<cacheaudio "happysong" "music/Podington Bear - Pives And Flarinet.mp3">>
You're running out of time and you're worried that if you don't do something soon, the damage might be irreversible. Yeah, the pills are your only option right now.
Even as you click on the "Buy now" button on the sketchy payment portal, you can't shake off the feeling of unease. You decide it would be best not to think about it, close your eyes and complete the purchase.
<img src = "images/order_pills.jpg" class="insertPhoto"/>
[[And now, you wait.->Take the pills]]Hmm, maybe it's time to reorient yourself. So far you've been looking for cures for your condition, but what if instead you could get rid of the symptoms and ... hope the condition went away on its own. Yep, solid plan.
You're still a little woozy from the last bout of vomiting but you manage to sit upright at your desk. You sip on some burnt coffee (blame George) as you browse the internet again. A couple of hours in, clicking links as you see them, you find yourself on a forum you'd never seen before.
<img src = "images/encounter_forum.jpg" class="insertPhoto"/>
It was ... interesting. One user described their lifelong battle with cancer and the mental toll of it all. They decided to stop fighting and live the rest of their life to the fullest. One talked about the stigma they faced as a result of congenital AIDS, and how they decided to give it all up to live in the woods away from it all.
When was the last time you'd seen your family...?
No, you're not thinking straight. [[You should probably go to bed, clear your head and come back to this later.->Considers nihilism some more]]You managed to find some home remedies that worked in alleviating some of the symptoms, but nothing stuck. The herbal tea was soothing, sure, but it didn't really cure your queasiness.
You lay in your bed thinking about the forum you looked at yesterday. What if you can't solve this? What then?
You think about your parents over in Ohio. You haven't seen them for three years, and you haven't talked to them for over two. You wonder how your mom is dealing with her arthritis and whether or not your dad ever did finish restoring that old car.
Maybe all of your struggle so far has been futile. Maybe being surrounded by family will make you feel better just a tiny bit. Maybe you should spend what little time you have left meaningfully.
Maybe you should go back home.
<img src = "images/consider_more.jpg" class="insertPhoto"/>
[[Restart->The Beginning]]Surprisingly, shipping was quick. In only a couple of days, you have the light blue pills in your palm. They arrived in a plain opaque white bottle with no label, but they look exactly like in the picture you saw online. Other than the pretty color, there doesn't seem to be anything particularly noteworthy about them.
<img src = "images/taking_pills.jpg" class="insertPhoto"/>
You pop two of them in your mouth (the recommended dosage). Huh, they're sort of sweet and a little tart; a flavor that seems familiar to you but you can't quite place it. They crumble almost instantly on contact with your tongue. How peculiar.
...
The pain might be subsiding? Yeah...if you really focus, you don't feel as horrible as you did an hour ago.
They're working! [[As long as you keep taking them, you should be fine, right?->Pills not working]]They're not working.
It's been over a week and the sores, diarrhea and vomiting have only worsened. Those pills really were too good to be true, but then again, you knew deep down that they were a scam.
You reassess your options. You can't go back to the doctor's, not after how they treated you at the clinic last time. But you still can't just sit around and hope your symptoms disappear either.
[[George and this Tina lady aren't sounding so cuckoo right now, huh? It wouldn't hurt to stop by there, I suppose...->Outside Tina's]]
Or maybe you could return to the wisdom of the internet. Sure, it let you down this time, but you never know.[[Or maybe you could return to the wisdom of the internet. Sure, it let you down this time, but you never know.->Encounters forum]]<img src = "images/at_clinic_1.jpg" class="insertPhoto"/>
You walk into a small bright room and see a clean-shaven man in his forties in a white coat busy with papers. He looks up at you, and you have a feeling of how you are just getting scanned on the spot.
"Come on in." – he says quietly, then stands up and shuts the white door behind you. You never suffered claustrophobia, but you feel enclosed, trapped between those walls. Memories begin coming back.
"Are you okay? Tell me what you have, sir." His emphasis on the "sir" makes you return to the present. You start muddling about your stomach ache, your sores, your constant pain, your increasing worry. He nods.
You talk more. You describe the details, trying not to forget every single second you spent in pain. You talk and talk. You feel like you are repeating yourself, but you stopped caring. You stopped caring about the doctor in front of you, about the walls around you, about the fears you had. You just need to pour that poison out. Out.
"May I check your arm veins?" A sudden question. A cold, indifferent voice.
You stare at him for a second. He doesn't blink. His face is calm but frightening. The doctor is back. The walls are back. So are the fears.
[[This is intimidating. Get out of the room!->Leaving the clinic]]
[[Sit and wait for what happens next.->At the clinic 2]]
[[It seems like the person doesn't care about what you are trying to say.->Leaving the clinic]]
[[Why do you need to tolerate this? You shouldn't be afraid of the person that is supposed to treat you. ->Leaving the clinic]]
[[You see how it is. Just leave and never come back.->Leaving the clinic]]
[[This doctor is not the right one. Let's try it again next week. ->Leaving the clinic]]
You knew that going to this clinic was a bad idea. So you are leaving. You are flying out of this rotten place. Period.
[[Hmmm... Maybe George knows how to deal with your stomach?->George tells about healer]]"I see. Looks like you are an abuser. No wonder." He slowly opens one of the drawers.
"No wonder you were feeling all of this. You probably got HIV. Go ahead and take the test." He stutters on the weird acronym. At this point, he gives those instructions almost automatically.
"Here is the helpline or whatever they call it." He passes you a card from a drawer with a number on it.
Do this; take that. Make sure you see this; make sure you control that. Return at this time. The string of words. You are still struggling to comprehend what just happened.
He looks at you again. He inspects your appearance. You can feel how his disgust of you slowly sips off out of his cold blue eyes and his tight smile.
"Why did you get this? Why did you become such a dirty addict? You see how you made yourself miserable. You know, you are a misfortune of the community. I mean it. You are a parasite. You got infected and now will infect others!"
[[Get the hell out of here! ->Leaving the clinic]]
[[Try to make an argument.->Leaving the clinic]]
[[Just swallow it and keep listening. His recommendations might help.->On the right track]]
[[Leave, slam the door, and never come back!->Leaving the clinic]]
[[Never tolerate such treatment of yourself; you deserve better care!->Leaving the clinic]]
[[Maybe you should try a different clinic?->Leaving the clinic]]You ignored that stream of aggression and hate towards you. You let the fact of being called a parasite go. The only thing that you needed was the information about what to do next. You collected that information, stood up, left the room, and never saw that disgusting doctor in a white coat ever again.
<img src = "images/right_track.jpg" class="insertPhoto"/>
You went to a rapid testing site at Cypress Park. Surprisingly, the woman there did not ask any unnecessary questions. Instead, she gave you candy when handing you your results back. Now you knew it was HIV for sure.
<img src = "images/helpline.png" class="insertPhoto"/>
You called a helpline number on the card. Surprisingly, the person got back to you in ten seconds. Young female voice. She called herself Bella and said she liked rainy mornings, strawberries, and New York. She said she was a student at USC. Besides chatting about what she liked, she gave the address of the clinic on Eagle Rock Boulevard. Now you knew where to head to for help.
<img src = "images/right_track2.jpg" class="insertPhoto"/>
You visited the clinic on Eagle Rock Boulevard. Surprisingly, they carefully listened to you. They noted down your symptoms, your complaints, your concerns. A tender smile from a nurse, a smell of flowers in the hallway, a "thumbs-up" sticker made you feel much better. The doctor gave you a prescription. Now you knew that there is support, help, and assistance that can make your life easier.
[[But, today, you are not feeling particularly good. ->Hard times]]A chilling December night. Christmas is around the corner. But you are not thinking about Santa.
A couple of days ago, the pain came back. The suffering swiftly returned. The fear began to reign again. Sores, blood, vomit. A constant headache. Disgust of yourself.
You stopped taking pills. In fact, you hate taking pills! You have been eating those white, red, and brown tablets for so long. Time to pause.
The helpline number stopped working. You wish you had somebody to talk with, but you are surrounded by walls of your room, and that's it.
After your diagnosis and your visits to doctors, George began distancing himself from you. He said he would move out in February. You don't care.
He showed you an article about a man found dead due to an HIV medication overdose. What if that's true?
Your cousin invited you to a New Year party in Oakland. You know that drugs will be there. Drugs... You haven't touched them for so long!
Whatever. Right now, you are lying on the floor, and you hate everything. Everyone. Yourself. Doctors. George. Cousin. Syringe. Pills. Drugs. Infection. Pain. Sichuan Sauce...
[[Stand up, open the window, look down.->Out of control]]
[[Call your cousin.->Out of control]]
[[What if the thing George showed is true?->Out of control]]
[[These pills cause your pain. Throw them out.->Out of control]]
[[Call George. ->George tells about healer]]
[[Call a dealer. It's Christmas, after all. ->Out of control]]
[[Close your eyes and do nothing.->Best ending]]
[[Browse the internet to find out how to help yourself.->Out of control]]
Your move triggered a sequence of events that you failed to control.
In fact, you stopped even trying to control your life.
Why do you even need to care?
[[Nothing can help you at this point.->Encounters forum]]<<audio mainsong stop>>
<<audio happysong play>>
A couple of weeks passed. Then, a couple of months. Then, a couple of years.
Indeed, you had many terrible days. And terrible nights. You felt sick almost all the time. As your doctor said, the medications and procedures you were taking were to fight off the symptoms and increase your lifespan. That's it. Nobody found a magical cure for you. At least not yet.
Indeed, some people turned against you. One day, George said that you were poison to humanity. You've heard whispers behind your back, and you've felt dirty, disgusted looks at you. Sometimes, it seemed like the whole world was against you. You wanted to hang yourself these days. Now you can't even recall how many terrible things you have encountered on the way...
But many good things happen. You got a job. You found a partner to live with. She has AIDS too. You moved to a better place. You started jogging every morning. You learned how to ski, and both of you went to the Rockies last Christmas.
You didn't give up. You believed in yourself. You believed in professionals. You believed in science. And now you are winning the game. At least for now.
<img src = "images/best_ending.jpg" class="insertPhoto"/>
[[Restart.->The Beginning]]