The Cursed of a New Land

The sterile white walls are the only reprieve from the black. It crept up when I least expected it- when I was happy of all things. My body first, then my mind slowly became lost to the dark. I brought this all upon myself, though; not through mal-actions or vehement thoughts but through the blood coursing within me. I could not escape myself; my body had become a flesh-wearing prison. At least this blackness, this coldness, took away the true pain- the past lives that were too distant to acknowledge in my decaying mind. I don't know why I was cursed, I don’t know why I was chosen. It isn't fair, nothing's been fair-
"Ira! Ira, come back to me..." Come back. I’m here aren't I? I can feel my stolen corpse twitching on the starched sheets. Come back. My hollowed eyes disobey my brain's command to find his voice; it won't be long now until I can no longer resurface from its lulling evil. Come back. The disease has stolen everything from me but I will not let it take this-my goodbye.
"Remy." My voice which has been forcedly silent for three months now breaks through the air with the grace of shattering glass. To him, though, it's a blessing and a curse; the elation of hearing my words coupled with the unbearable realization of what their appearance meant. His black eyes lock onto mine, filled with a passionate misery that can only mean one thing. He understands.
I watch the reflection of my body swirling in his watery gaze. Technically, it's me, but we both know it's not. It's the new world's curse. Our rare concentration of red blood cells makes us liable to contract never before seen plagues-diseases that manifest in our blood until they’ve decimated all healthy cells. So here I wait on a distant planet from home, in a foreign body counting the breaths until the Black Curse steals the life from me just as it had with my mother, my father, my sister, and brother. It is the inaugural finding of a deteriorating sickness on this strange new world. Once contracted with the necessary blood type, each movement of the host spreads the disease further and further within.
I wiggle my ruined fingers, now a ghostly black color, watching the movement travel through swollen tendons and feel the command fighting for control of my body. I can still remember the day the Black Curse stole my life from me.
Remy smoothed back my tangled hair from the tears falling onto my brother's blackened body. He went to tuck the strands behind my ear when he recoiled with a hiss and, simultaneously, left my skin feeling as if on fire. We both stared at his hand, not wanting to think it, not being able to believe it. I remember rushing to the nearest mirror, sweeping my hair up... and seeing it. The blackness covered the whole side of my neck like a fiery bruise. That was the last time Remy touched me; the last time I had any contact other than cold gloves and masked faces was that day in front of the mirror. Not only did contact enable the disease to spread throughout my body faster but it also caused burns on others who touched it. In this room with these walls I have not moved for three months. Everything-eating, drinking, sleeping, is done through medication, tubes, and machines. Every breath, every small muscle spasm, every word would only overturn more tissue to be destroyed. Yet here I am watching the foreign skin pull over my bones as I move my fingers.
There was no avoiding it; my blood type was simply a liability on this new planet. The chemicals that made up its very existence destroyed ours. I have lost all of my family; Remy is the only person left that I love and now I'm being taken from him. I am nothing but a cursed corpse, waiting for my final breath to do its damage. My warm skin has been converted to a lifeless grey, dull and brittle. Every heart beat made the next one even more difficult.
His eyes are locked on mine, tears streaming down his beautiful cheeks, "Please Ira, please stop moving." His jaw pops as I force what is left of my cooperative body to move my legs. Blistering pain surges through my throat but I can't stop.My foot lands wrongly on my dying ankle, making the breath whoosh out of my thin lungs. I make my destroyed legs push through the pain- one last step and I would finally be consumed by the blackness. This moment, my death, an inescapable fate that came way too soon, was unavoidable here on this planet. My kind simply did not belong.I look away from my ruined skin and lock onto Remy's eyes. His gaze is glued to my trembling feet, "Don't. Don't do this."
I watch his pupils as they widen; I watch his lips as they form a silent scream; I can watch no longer as his arms wrap around my lifeless body