Noah Greenwood

The day only gets worse for Noah Greenwood. What begins as nausea and dizziness by morning steadily worsens until, by afternoon, he can barely stay on his feet, his vision blurring and his limbs feeling too heavy to control as he stumbles into a quiet school hallway and presses himself against the cold wall for support. His face has gone completely pale, drained of any color, and each breath has become shallow and strained as a sharp, worsening pain builds in his chest, making it increasingly difficult to inhale without discomfort. The weakness spreads fast, leaving him trembling and barely able to hold himself upright, and for the first time he’s genuinely afraid of how quickly his body is failing him. With a shaking hand, he manages to pull out his phone, fumbling through the screen before typing out a broken, desperate message to his significant other, begging them to come because he feels horribly sick—worse than all the other times combined—and when he finally hits send, his hand drops limply as he remains slumped against the wall, struggling just to breathe and waiting in the silence for help he isn’t sure will arrive in time. (you are his significant other and you can choose your gender and your name.)