A Familiar Collapse

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Few days later, the late afternoon sunlight filtered onto the court, casting long shadows as Miguel, Ethan, and the team practiced with an intensity that seemed to pull every eye in the crowd. Blanca, Mia, and Louis sat on the bleachers, cheering them on with bright smiles. Across the court, Nick, Andy, and Oliver were settled on the sidelines, silently observing. Nick's eyes followed Miguel's every move, his gaze sharpening.

As Miguel passed to Ethan, a creak echoed through the court—eerily similar to the one from days before. Before anyone could react, the basketball hoop began to tilt and then collapsed with a loud crash, striking Ethan. The crowd gasped in horror, and everyone on the court froze.

Ethan, though slightly dazed, quickly steadied himself, brushing off the initial sting. His first thought wasn't for himself, it was for Miguel. Turning, he saw the look of sheer terror and guilt etched onto Miguel's face, mirroring the agony he'd seen before.

"Hey, Miguel, look at me," Ethan said gently, limping towards him with a reassuring smile. "I'm okay, I promise. Just a bump, nothing serious."

But Miguel was already spiraling, his mind swirling with images of his mother's accident, his father's injury, and now Ethan's repeated close calls. It felt like a pattern—a curse he couldn't escape. His breaths quickened, his gaze vacant, and his body trembled uncontrollably.

Blanca's heart dropped as she rushed forward, her voice filled with worry. "Miguel? Hey, it's okay..."

Louis and James were by Ethan's side, helping him, but Ethan shook his head urgently, signaling that Miguel needed them more. He mouthed to Louis and James, "Let's get him out of here."

Together, they gently led Miguel off the court, shielding him from the concerned, prying eyes of the crowd. But Miguel's condition only worsened with each step, his breaths shallow, his face pale. His mind was trapped, unable to escape the thought that those closest to him would continue to get hurt—because of him.

Blanca held his hand tightly, whispering reassurances as they guided him to a quieter area, away from the chaos of the court. But even with his friends surrounding him, Miguel couldn't pull himself free from the darkness gripping his mind.

Blanca, Ethan, Louis, and James sat with Miguel on the secluded edge of campus, a quiet spot away from prying eyes. The afternoon sun was slipping below the horizon, casting a soft glow around them, but Miguel barely registered it. He sat hunched forward, his face buried in his hands, struggling to ground himself in the present moment.

Blanca knelt in front of him, her hands gentle on his shoulders. "Miguel... you're safe. We're all safe," she whispered, her voice soft yet steady.

Ethan, who was nursing a bruise on his arm, leaned close, meeting Miguel's glazed gaze. "Miguel, you saved me before, remember? And I'm okay. I'm tougher than you think." He gave a small grin, hoping it would reach Miguel, but Miguel's eyes remained hollow, his breath shallow.

"Why does this keep happening?" Miguel's voice was barely a whisper, his words choked with guilt. "First my mom, then my dad, and now you... twice. It's like I'm cursed, like everyone around me just—" His voice broke, his gaze shifting to the ground.

Louis, usually full of quips, grew uncharacteristically serious. "Miguel, that's not you. These accidents aren't something you can control. They're... just accidents."

But Miguel shook his head. "It's not a coincidence. It's too much—too many close calls. What if next time... it's worse?"

Blanca squeezed his hand, her voice firm. "Miguel, listen to me. You are not cursed, okay? Life is unpredictable, yes, and terrible things happen, but they don't happen because of you. We're all here by choice. We're your friends, and we're here for you."

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