The Vixen

Werepox

It turned out that Jasmine was not better in no time. The nurse had thought that she was suffering from a cold, but she had instead caught the most feared and deadly illness known to were-kind: werepox.
    The werepox spread until it seemed as if the whole school had contracted it. The symptoms were terrible: a rasping cough, a high fever, a sore, dry throat, and pox marks all over the victims' bodies. The nurse took to putting gloves on every sick person to prevent them from scratching themselves. The itchiness was so unbearable that the nurse feared some would be scarred for life and that other might die.
     Throughout it all, Jasmine was weary, drifting in and out of consciousness like a butterfly flirting between flowers, unaware that one of the flowers was actually a Venus fly trap. Eventually, she recovered. She realized it when she woke up, weak and exhausted, and realized that her fever had broken. The nurse came over to her and gave her a glass of water.
     Jasmine dipped it. It was slightly warm and metallic, but it soothes her parched throat. Soon, she was eating s bowl of soup placed next to her makeshift bed. It was mostly broth. "I don't want you to eat too much at once," the nurse said. "We will have to slowly build up your strength."
     Jasmine nodded, her eyes suddenly heavy. She drifted back to sleep. When she woke once again, she felt much stronger. The nurse checked on her. "I think that I can discharge you," she said.
    "I want to help you," Jasmine stated.
     "You were just sick," the nurse objected.
       "I just battled off the disease," Jasmine pointed out. "I'm immune to it, right? Surely that makes me well-suited for the task."
     The nurse hesitated before consenting. Jasmine spent the rest of the day checking on patients, spooning them soup, making sure they were as comfortable as possible, and soothing their nerves. She wanted to stay the night, but the nurse insisted that she rest.
     Jasmine returned to her dormitory room. Fiona was there, looking healthy and radiant next to Jasmine, who was paler than usual after the illness. "You're fine?" Jasmine asked incredulously.
     "I got a vaccine when I was younger," Fiona explained. "It's bad luck, this were-pox. Two kids have already died."
    Jasmine gaped and suddenly her eyes were hot with tears. "What will my mother think?" she asked.
     "Yo should call her," Fiona said. "You can use my phone."
    Jasmine called her mother. "Jasmine!" her mother exclaimed after her daughter greeted her. "I've been so worried about you. I miss you so much and when I heard that were-pox was going around, I panicked. I should have gotten you a vaccine."
    "It's alright, mother," Jasmine protested.
     "No, it was irresponsible of me," her mother said. "You could have died or lost your sight and you're almost certainly scarred."
    Her mother's end went silent. Jasmine gave the phone back to Fiona and curiosity took ahold of her. She went to the mirror and helped. Her face was covered in scars. "What's wrong with me?" she said.
     "You're fortunate to be alive!" Fiona exclaimed.
     Jasmine stared at her friend, who was trembling with emotion. "Another two students died just now," she said and Jasmine's heart sank to her feet.