Title: AIDS, What I Can't Tell You

Summary: Another 'What If' story What if when Bella came to Forks, she had AIDS? Not a Bella rape story

Rating: T

Author: Deathequalsoul

HIV.HIV.HIV.HIV.HIV.HIV.HIV.HIV.HIV.HIV.HIV.HIV.HIV.HIV.HIV.HIV.

AN: I'm really sorry I haven't been updating as much as I would like to on my other stories. Some updates: I deleted two of my stories 'Falling in Love With the Past' and 'Fear is What I'll Always Feel' because I've lost the inspiration for them. Sorry to all of you guys out there who've read enjoyed it. The reason that I haven't been updating in a while is because I've been taking a class and it's taken up all of my time.

I've done MAJOR research on this topic and a majority of the information on here is 99 true, but because I AM NOT an AIDS victim I cannot completely understand how they feel. I am truly sorry if I have any mistakes in the information. You can either submit a review or message me if you have any comments.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Twilight characters or settings.

AIDS.AIDS.AIDS.AIDS.AIDS.AIDS.AIDS.AIDS.AIDS.AIDS.AIDS.AIDS.AIDS.

Chapter 1

Bella's POV

HIV.HIV.HIV.HIV.HIV.HIV.HIV.HIV.HIV.HIV.HIV.HIV.HIV.HIV.HIV.HIV.

I've had it three years already.

It's plagued my life for three years already.

I've kept it a secret for three years already, well besides my parents. I thought they deserved to know their only daughter held a deadly disease.

The past three years have been torture. Yes, the medications I take EVERY SINGLE day prolong my life up to eighty percent, but what kind of a life is this? Taking more than forty medications a day just to keep my body up and running, all the night sweats, fevers, pains, what was it all for? I would never experience life to the fullest anyway. I don't understand the point of me staying alive this way.

Besides, it wasn't even as I had had sex to get here. It was a simple accident, an accident that could've been prevented and avoided. My clumsiness was all to blame; otherwise I wouldn't be in this position.

When I was fourteen, I needed community service hours for high school, and I thought, what better place to do community service hours than at the classic, a hospital? I would be able to help other kids and get hours at the same time. At that time, I thought it was the best idea ever.

The idea that I might accidentally hurt myself in a place full of needles and scalpels never occurred to me. My mistake. My BIG mistake.

After going through the not-so-quick training, I was put in oncology ward, or otherwise known as the cancer ward: pediatric. I was to bring flowers and cards to each assigned child who was lucky that day to receive some good wishes.

Two hours later, my shift ended and I was allowed to leave. As much as I loved kids, I just felt so depressed. Those kids lying in those beds wouldn't be able to experience life, but some were lucky and would go into remission. That was what every parent wished for, that was what I was wishing for, for every kid I had seen that day.

As I was leaving the hospital, you can only imagine what happened. I tripped down the staircase and started falling down three sets of stairways, finally crashing through the window, only to land in the bushes two more stories below me. Hm…where did I get this idea from? Aha From the lack of blood, I fainted not a couple minutes later.

I awoke sometime later to find myself back in the hospital. Strange, I thought. I'm pretty sure I left the hospital. And then I remembered; I fell down that flight of stairs! I quickly looked around to see my leg and both arms in casts, a neck brace, several IV tubes coming out of my hands, and lots of gauze. I looked down at one of the IV tubes and followed it up the wire until I saw the bag it was attached to was filled with blood! I was getting a blood transplant.

I quickly tried to rip the horrid needles out when out of nowhere a hand stops me.

"You wouldn't want to do that now, would you? You really need that. You lost a lot of blood when you fell out that window. It was a good thing one of the nurses was outside when she heard a loud crash from the side of the building. How are you feeling, Miss Swan?" the kind doctor asked.

"Okay," I quickly answered. I didn't need any more tubes!

"Well, if you need anything, just press that button. I will just be checking on a few other patients and coming back to check on you," the doctor said as he was leaving.

"Wait! How long will I need to stay here? I need to call my mom to tell-" the doctor interrupted me as he waved his hand. All taken care of; we found all your information in your wallet," he smiled warmly as he silently slid out of the room.

Seven months later, after Renee forced me to take STD blood test, even though I explicitly told her that I wasn't even sexually active, the lab found something. They thought it was HIV, but they made me take another HIV test called an EIA test. When that also came out positive, I freaked out. I could only think of how this could've happened.

I wasn't sexually active! I wasn't having any sex! I wasn't even kissing anyone yet! How could this be happening.

After the second EIA test, I told my mother. To say the least, she was mad and sad. She yelled at me because of course she thought that I was having sex. She said that she was frustrated that I wouldn't just tell her the truth. And when I insisted that I was telling the truth, she gave up. She gave up that day, not only her anger, but also her hope that maybe the tests would come up negative.

Because on that day, the Western Blot test to confirm whether or not I really was HIV positive or negative came out positive.

Renee was devastated to say the least. We questioned the doctor again and again for the reason why I was diagnosed with HIV because I had never had sex, I had never touched any HIV infected patient's blood, Renee didn't have HIV, and there were no logical reasons left.

The doctor told us he had a theory and would get back to us after a couple more lab results. Four days later, my mom received a call. That blood transfusion I received seven and a half months ago had given me a nightmare. The Human Immuno-deficiency Virus Or HIV, which would later turn into Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome, had been passed onto me.

What'd you guys think of my new story? Should I continue? Should I stop? Please review.

P.S. if you guys have any questions on AIDS/HIV or any STD, I'd be happy to answer your questions.