AIDS is darkness. AIDS is fear. AIDS is a fatally multiplying brutality that is killing, destroying all that it comes in contact with. It is hunger starving for a cure. And AIDS is also the disease that has murdered my brother, taking from him his most precious possession - his life ....

The sky was rumbling softly, a distant storm approaching in the autumn night - the night that I found out. I had been lying in bed, counting the flashes of lightning outside, when I heard him in the next room crying. I sat up, listening, holding my breath.

I slipped out of bed and quietly padded across the carpeted floor of my room to his closed door. When I knocked, the crying stopped. I didn't wait for a reply. Swiftly I opened the door.

Silence filled the short distance between us. A flash of lightning brightened the room momentarily, and I caught a glimpse of his tear-stained face and devastated expression.

"What is it?" I stepped closer to him, the chill of fear beginning to creep into my blood. I could no longer see him in the darkness.

"It was a mistake, it had to be," I remember him mumbling, his voice barely a whisper. "They say I'm HIV positive ... I have AIDS ... all the tests came out positive ..."

At that moment I remember feeling completely drained. I began to shake uncontrollably. Again the lightning illuminated the room, but I turned away from his pleading eyes. I felt nauseous. He said my name, but I did not reply. It took me a few minutes before I found my voice, and that's when I began asking questions.

My brother had always had many girlfriends, and I knew he had slept with quite a few of them. So it wasn't a big surprise when he told me he had contracted the virus heterosexually. I also knew that he had been sick a lot more than what was considered normal; sick for the past seven or eight months, until he decided to get some blood tests run.

I remained in his room for the rest of the night, and I remained by his side for the following year and a half. It killed me inside to watch him die slowly. The virus caused him to deteriorate, without hesitation or compassion. I am filled with hatred for this disease. The memory of his pale thin body and his lifeless eyes will never leave my mind. It is a memory that has replaced all others. No longer is he the energetic, charming, attractive young man who could steal girls' hearts. No longer is he the older brother whom I could rely on and laugh with and share my secrets with. Now all I have is the memory of his dying, spiritless life - the life that AIDS has taken from him.

So I say AIDS is darkness and fear and hunger. I say AIDS is a deadly disease. And I also say AIDS is a reality, for no longer will I say it isn't real. It is the thief who has stolen my brother from the world.