Author's Note: My apologies for the late update. I hope you enjoy this chapter. A new one will be up soon. Comments, criticism- all welcomed and encouraged.

My Dignity

Gordon Reed's Memoir

Sometimes I wonder if suicides aren't in fact sad guardians of the meaning of life.

-Vaclav Havel

Deadline. I would have liked to be anywhere else besides work. But I had missed a lot of days... been unproductive the days I was here. I've been skipping breakfast and my energy had been extremely low. I've been tired. Sick of worrying. Sick of living. Night sweats, flu-ish. But I didn't expect anything less since I had been skipping doses of my AZT.

Everyone in work had noticed, but they didn't care as much. I wouldn't want them to. They had their own shit to deal with. I didn't want to be the burden on anyone's shoulder. I had been worried about Alysha and Steve. They both knew something was wrong, but tried as hard as they could to give me some space. It was people like them that made me realize that there was a miniscule of hope left.

A knock. And another.

"We go to print in eight hours," said Steve softly.

Oh right. I didn't have my cartoon spread done. I grumbled softly.

"Andrew's getting the noose ready in his office," said Steve. I knew how hard he was trying... "But, uhh... I told him that the ceiling wasn't high enough."

A small involuntary smile crept on my face. He laughed gently and sat down across from me. He leaned forward and began to talk like the serious, compassionate guy I had always imagined him to be. Would he ever loosen?

"I haven't known you for too long," he started, "but I think Alysha's told me enough about you to guess that there's something wrong. And I know that you're too outgoing to be this... depressed." I stayed quiet. Devoured his words thirstily. Why did I feel like I had known him for all my life? "Maybe you have trouble telling Alysha your... troubles... because you're afraid for her or something... or maybe you don't want someone you care about to pity you so much... or something. But I want you to know that you can always talk to me... because I have enough of my own problems to worry about yours."

He didn't say this with any unkindness. It was almost sympathetic. Soothing. He wasn't dismissive, but welcoming. His tone was soft and touched a part of me I forgot I had. He knew I wasn't looking for helping hand, just someone to talk to. I looked at him sincerely, a look that I hadn't given anyone for a while. He nodded.

"I'm right next door," he said. I nodded and he left. I stared at my monitor intently and began to wonder about what I was going through. What other people like me was going through. How Alysha was feeling. How Steve was feeling. How Kellie was feeling... I sucked in some air, grabbed a clean sheet of paper, and began to draw.

I drew and erased, sketched and drew. Colored and shaded. I became mesmerized, fixed on my work, concentrating on the markings darkening along the surface of white. I did this for hours. Andrew came in a couple of times. He didn't say much because it probably wouldn't have done any good. I was deaf and the only things I would listen to were the scratches of my pencil on paper.

Finished. My illustrations were finished. I wrote an article along with it, that I typed in twenty minutes, revised in fifteen, and copyedited in twelve. I told Andrew to trust me. He wanted to see my page, but I refused. I wouldn't let anyone see it.

I grabbed my drawings and headed to the scanner. That was all I needed to do. Scan the art and put it into the computer. I gazed over at my creations, feeling a nice, familiar sensation about my own work. Then I began to feel depressed again. And I didn't know why. I was afraid that the dreaded day had come when even my drawings would fail to give me the sense of pleasure it usually gave.

I put in the first drawing and grabbed the disk out of my pocket, slipping it into the junk drive of the computer beside it. I set up the scanning process with the feeling of dejection returning for no reason at all. Again, I couldn't help but think of how I had come to this. Why I had AIDS.

I waited. Waited for the pictures to scan. I leaned against the wall. My head began to hurt, the anxiety and pain weighing it down. I continued to scan, continued to think, continued to worry. I reached as far as high school to remember if I did anything stupid. I pulled out one of the pamphlets from my jacket pocket and flipped through the pages, hoping to find the answer written in it clear as day. Perhaps I would never find out. And I knew that the curiosity would kill me first before the disease took its grasp on me.

Footsteps arrived. Startled, I hurriedly slipped the pamphlet into my back pocket. I didn't want anyone to know. Not yet. I wasn't ready. Not now.

"How are you feeling, Gordon?" asked Alysha quietly.

"Okay," I said, trying to be as vague as possible. I hated lying to her.

"You haven't been joining us at Life for lunch lately. You sure you're just okay?" she asked. Maybe I did hate the fact that she felt some pity for me while everyone else was worried about their own shit. I sighed.

"Yeah. Is there something you needed?" I asked, tapping on the scanner and looking over the buttons as if I was searching for something.

"Do I ever need a reason to just talk to you?" she asked. I didn't respond; I continued to avoid eye contact. "Looks like you've broken your record. Done an hour before print? That's the earliest you've ever gone."

"And your point is?" I snapped, but sure as hell didn't mean to. She drew back and bit her lip, hurt, looking as if she was going to cry. I didn't know what was wrong with me. "I'm sorry, Alysha, I'm just a bit irritable. Sit down."

I pulled out the chair in front of the computer. She reluctantly took the seat and I crossed my arms. I turned a bit and smiled weakly. "Tell me, what's going on with your life?"

A small curl emerged from her lips. She began to talk about how she and Steve were getting along, but kept her voice to a minimum since he was nearby. She was a bit more hesitant, probably still uncomfortable with my presence. She and Steve seemed to have a lot of chemistry, and he always managed to make her laugh. By the glow in her face, I could tell she really liked him, and it was about time. It was about time she found someone and it was about time he got comfortable with us.

The heat from the scanner scorched my flesh, but the pain wasn't any different from what I felt already. A drip of sweat leaked from my neck. My mind slowly began to falter in and out of reality. I heard Alysha's voice, but that was all. I understood nothing. I grabbed the scanner with both hands, and tried to breathe in.

Alysha rose. "Gordon, are you ok?"

I nodded. "Fine. I'm just... tired." The scanner had finished its last job. I took out the pictures and saved the illustrations on the disk. My throat felt as if it was contracting, and I needed to take more breaths. I started to head for my workspace, but had to stop for a moment for the room to stop spinning.

"I'm gonna get you some water," she said quickly and jogged across the room.

I plugged the disk into the junk drive hooked on my computer and edited the last touches to my page. Saved it. Finished. Done. Over. Walked out of my cubicle. I lurched forward.

The image in front of me began to blur. It suddenly felt as if the room was closing in on me. The sweat covered every inch of my body. I felt sick to my stomach; I wasn't sure what to do so I dropped on all fours.

"Gordon," someone said. I saw Steve's hand grabbing my arm and putting it around his neck. Before my vision darkened, I saw Alysha's lime-green sandals dragging across the dusty blue carpet.

"Oh God, is he okay?" I heard her say.

"He needs a doctor," I heard another say.

"Relax, I'm gonna take him outside to get some fresh air. There's a payphone nearby, I'll call a taxi or something if something goes wrong," said Steve, as he tried to get me down the stairs.

"Take my car," said Andrew. I heard keys tossed.

"Work with me, Gordon," said Steve, as he struggled down the steps. I suffocated as I tried to take a breath. My throat closed up. I swayed my weight to the rail- it was sturdier. Every step felt like I was falling deeper and deeper into quicksand; it was getting harder to pick up my feet. We managed to get outside. The night was hot.

"Do you want to get to a hospital?" asked Steve.

I took another breath and finally got a swift of air. I coughed and wiped my forehead with the back of my hand.

"I'm fine," I said, moaning softly. "I'm just... I just feel like crap."

"Is he doing alright?" asked Alysha, joining us. I looked up and my eyesight became clearer. My body began to relax, the tension slowly casting out of my system. My heart beat rapidly. I didn't want to think about the rest of the shocks I would be going through in the future; I didn't want to think about how many other times I'd have to suffer near death until I experienced the real thing.

"He's going to be okay," said Steve. She wrapped herself around him. I leaned against a wall, trying to wipe the sweat away with my shirt. Alysha offered me a handkerchief. I accepted gratefully.

"We uploaded your page," she said, "but I swear, we didn't look at it. Andrew said he'll print up the page and paste it, and he won't um... criticize you until you're well."

I nodded once. Andrew knew about my sickness. Nobody else.He had to know. As my boss, he needed to know. I had to tell him everything about my health.

"Gordon," she whispered my name like how Kellie did, and reached for my hand. I pulled away. Her brow scrunched, upset. Steve laid a kiss on her forehead.

"Do you mind if I take him home? I'll be back to walk you to your apartment and give Andrew his car," said Steve. Alysha nodded and headed back upstairs. Steve patted my back and he led me to Andrew's old silver blue Toyota. I got into the passenger's seat and closed the door. Steve started the engine and I leaned my head back exhausted.

"Do you mind if we take a quick stop at the drug store?" he asked.

I shook my head. I fell asleep during the quick ride and Steve woke me up before he got out of the car. He said that he would have let me sleep, but he didn't think it was a good idea to leave me in a stuffy car. He said the open air would do me good, so I obeyed. He was a real intellect, and I relied on that.

We headed into the store. The bright lights and familiar essence hit me cold. I remembered where I was. It was the same store I went in and found out from that jerk in the white coat that Kellie came in. That liar.

To my horror, we were heading for the pharmacy sector of the store.

"I just need to do a refill... are you okay?" He noticed my uneasiness.

"I don't like going here," I admitted bitterly.

"Afraid of being sick?" he asked. That question threw my off guard.

"No...no," I said trying to sound convincing. "Someone I don't like."

"Not Eddy, I hope," said Steve, "he annoys the hell out of me. He can never get my name right."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"He thinks he knows every person that's a regular here- he's full of shit. That's why I usually come in the mornings. It's not his shift... just my luck. He's here." We approached the counter and a curly haired girl walked behind Eddy.

"I've got this one Eddy," she said stepping in front of him. "You've still got to take care of that inventory...now." He looked at her and went in the back. She smiled at us. "I know you too well, Steve."

"Well at least you get my name right," he said, "yesterday I came in for some groceries and he called me Prescott."

She laughed. "I'll get you a new bottle." She disappeared behind the shelves and Steve gave ma a grin. I smiled weakly.

"You really are a ladies man, aren't you?" I joked. The feeling of my old self was gradually surfacing.

"I don't think so. Now you... your the ladies man."

The girl came back and shook the bottle before giving it to him. "There's your AZT. You're still covered for the next two refills."

"Thanks Darla," he said and slipped it into his pocket. He looked at me. His expression remained the same. Not embarrassed, or expectant of a reaction. "Ready?"

I looked at him and nodded. Suddenly I didn't feel so alone.