MALE - DRAMATIC

STEWART

Stewart, a young, terminal AIDS patient, unloads his anger.
Yes, I'm bitter! And why shouldn't I be? How would you feel?
How would you like to give it up, all of this-your life? Christ,
I haven't even lived. (He turns away for a few seconds.) Death
is something that happens to other people, not you. You don't
consider it; it's out of the question, an abstract thing.
I don't want to die! I don't want to leave you and the sky,
the trees-people. You think about all of this, you know. You
think about how it'll be without you around and how things
will be still going on like always and how you're not going to
be part of it. That's one of the tragedies of it. You're gone and
you're nothing but an occasional memory or an old photo in a
shoebox in someone's closet.
You know you're not the first to die. You know this, and it
makes sense. And you know there's nothing you can do,
anyway. You repeat this logic to yourself over and over, try to
sell yourself. But you don't buy it.
Right now, I don't know if I'll be able to face death with
dignity or not. Right now I'm afraid. And I'm damned mad!