The Decaydance Wizarding Academy.

The curse was spreading, and still I had no idea who or what was the cause. Still, I had to keep quiet and be very careful with who I trusted with the information. Brendon was one of them, obviously, but that was the only aspect I trusted him with. We may be getting that little bit closer, but he wasn’t a friend of mine and we definitely weren’t close enough to trust each other. Don’t be preposterous.

I pushed my way through the wall to get to the hospital ward. My pupils dilated as the usually empty ward had several motionless bodies. This curse was spreading, and it was spreading pretty damn quickly. If it continued to multiply at this rate, the whole school would be down by Christmas.

And I don’t have that much blood.

In the first bed there was Bill Kaulitz. His dark, disheveled hair was drab and slicked to his face. His pale skin was almost translucent, the green and blue veins clashing against his perfect skin. He did look dead; his chest wasn’t even going up with breaths. His pulse wasn’t there at all.

You’d think Selena would be next to him, crying and clutching his hand. Well, you’re not far off. She was certainly next to him, but she was in the next bed, also cursed. Apparently they’d been found cursed together, in Selena’s room. This is why it was so difficult to pinpoint the curse, someone was putting the curse in a different object every time. If it’d been in the same object every time, as wizards tend to do, we could remove that object or keep some surveillance of it. Unfortunately this wasn’t the case so it was impossible to trace the steps of the curser.

There was also Gerard Way, as someone who’d surcome to this awful curse. His unconscious body lay dead and still. He’d obviously got into a fight with someone before, perhaps as a way to defend himself against it. This made it even more difficult to trace the steps, as the curse may have been expelled straight from wand to wizard. Gerard had realized this and tried to defend himself, but the curse had won. Everyone knows curses win. It’s like the equivalent of using ‘bomb’ in ‘rock, paper, scissors.’ Everyone knows who’ll win. Everyone.

Daisy was holding his hand, not crying, but she looked cursed herself. The life had been sucked out of her and she had pursed lips, pallid skin, eyes dying from pain. I felt sorry for her, because they were two such lovely people, but a little lonely. They had each other, and that was pretty much it. They weren’t social outcasts or anything like that; merely shy and misunderstood. It takes one to know one, I suppose.

I shot her a sympathetic smile and she attempted once back, but her lip trembled as it tried to strain the muscles into a forced smile. Her body sunk down, shaking like a new born puppy in deep snow. The sobs took over her body, just like the curse had taken Gerard’s, and she cried silently into his green, hospital sheets. I’d always linked being ill and the color green together; it seemed to fit, but in a way it was like the sheets were mocking the inhabitants of the ward. It wasn’t even a nice green. It just sat there and mocked all day and night.

My eyes widened as I saw one of my best friends Ellie Birch, swarmed by the putrid comforters. One cheek was tear stained, and looked like it was relatively fresh. She couldn’t have been here long, and her right arm was hanging out of the bed, her thumb and fore finger pressed together with a little amount of pressure, still in the same position as she had been milliseconds before being put in this awful position. Her blond hair and blue eyes were masked by unconsciousness and possible mortality looming over her.

We were meant to be going shopping in a few days.

Next was Miyavi. I did not know his last name, nor had I ventured any further to figure it out, but all I did know was that he was Japanese and had taken an immediate shining to Ellie. She’d returned this shining and it was blatant they adored one another, or they were phenomenal liars. I severely hope it is not the last one, she’s a gentle soul and does not deserve to be toyed with.

His face obviously had more color that the others, but was still as cool and drab as everyone around him. His left hand had fallen out of bed too; it was opposite Ellie’s. It was like they subconsciously knew they were next to each other, and their hands had extended toward each other to help, to comfort, to heal.

That was my job; and I hated it. I hated this reliance that had been bestowed upon me.

There was a shaggy haired boy, blond and brown, next. I recognized it to be Alex Gaskarth. He was one of the popular wizards, with good reason, unlike some. Ahem, William Beckett. He was a nice kid, who was very committed to this school, and he would be sorely missed when he left. But it was like he’d already left as his soul was frozen in a metaphorical box, locked away, only to be set free when my blood was in his system.

Damn reliance.

On the bedside table there was a card, a get well soon card. I blinked a few times and drifted towards it, picking it up and flicking it open to read the contents.

To Alex;

I hope you get better soon. I know I can’t influence it, but the least I can do is send you a card. I’ll visit you in spirit, and when you’re awake the nurses promised to alert me. This is for when you wake up and the nurses ‘forget’ their promise.

I love you;

Rachel.

I sighed lightly, making sure Daisy didn’t hear me as it would seem a little inconsiderate, she was in a worse position that I was.

I clasped my hands across my mouth as I saw Patrick Stump in the next bed. His trademarked hat was hung on the end bed post. His body surprised me the most, as I thought it was possible to fight off the curses, but only if you were extraordinarily strong. Patrick was only a little guy, and one full of timidity at that, but man was he strong. His booming voice was a magnificent representation of his splendor and true personality. He really didn’t deserve this at all. My naivety had gotten the better of me; it was impossible to fight off a curse.

Sydney clutched at his hand for dear life, which no matter how hard she held it, she wouldn’t find any life in him. Her tears were streaming down her rosy cheeks, crying and crying. Patrick wouldn’t like that, he wouldn’t want someone crying over him. He wouldn’t want anyone crying at all, he’d want to give her a hug and tell her it’ll all be alright.

I think I need a Patrick hug myself.

“Can you help him?” asked Sydney, in a sad, dying tone. “Can you help them? Why are you here?”
“It intrigues me.” I said bluntly, no emotion showing. I had no idea how to react, no idea what to say, no idea whether to run or stay.
“Intrigues you? He’s lying here on the brink of death, and you’re here because it intrigues you?!”
“Sydney, it’s not that I don’t care it’s that-”
“Get out.” she said simply. “Get out.”

I nodded and obliged, leaving the room sharply. I had every right to be there, after all I would be what was going to cure them in a few days anyway. But I couldn’t tell anyone, I just couldn’t. My understanding of the whole matter was spiraling out of control, being drawn out and thwarted to such an extent I couldn’t seem to tell the difference between anything anymore.

I didn’t know I was crying until Brendon picked me up from the floor and his arms swallowed my body.