A/N: Fourth chapter! YAY! Come on, be happy! Thank you for those who reviewed. Even if they weren't too many people. Ah well. Can't really expect much in only one day!Well, I hope this isgood enough for you and I hope I don't make too many typos --'

Danny walked over to Sam in the kitchen. She was stirring the hot chocolate in her cup with a teaspoon nervously. Hearing him walk in, she quickly stood. "So?" she asked, hoping for a good response.

"She said she was okay," Danny mumbled sitting down back into his seat. Sam sat down slowly, thinking.

"But..." she mumbled, thinking. She sighed. "What was she doing when you went up there?"

"She was sketching something," Danny said, deep in his own thoughts. "She wouldn't let me see it though."

Sam thought for a second, silent. Danny waited for a response, a sign that she was still totally conscious of all this. She finally looked up. "Danny, maybe if we do tell her about it," she started, but Danny stood, rolling his eyes slightly.

"Sam," he complained. Sam stood too.

"But, Danny, maybe she just doesn't-"

"Sam!" Danny cut her short. He looked at her. She looked startled, afraid, worried. "Sam, listen to me. She said she's okay and I believe her. I never told my parents anything and I'm still okay."

"But, Danny, she could get into trouble," Sam said.

"When don't I get in trouble?" Danny said, a slight smile on his face. Sam looked at him.

"Fine, but can you make me just one more promise?" she asked.

"Hit me with it," Danny said, crossing his arms over his chest slightly.

"Take care of her. Make any excuse necessary, just make sure she's okay," Sam said. Danny hesitated a moment.

"I will," he said.

"Thank you," Sam said, walking up to him and giving a great hug, pressing the side of her face to his chest. Danny held her too. "If she does have them," she mumbled. "You'll help her, right?"

"Count on it," Danny mumbled.

Meanwhile, Alice was in her room, music turned back up and pencils back in place. She continued her sketch of the boy in her dreams, it coming out better than she had expected. One of her friends, Jonathan, a boy with dark brown hair and sparkling hazel brown eyes, was all about the past and stuff. He had newspapers inside his locker about all sorts of past events and the like. He had a whole binder filled with even more articles he couldn't fit in his locker. Alice wanted to see if he could identify this person she'd been seeing.

She hoped he would. The boy looked so familiar, but she still couldn't place him. If Jonathan didn't know, then she would have to look elsewhere. The boy seemed familair, so she must have seen him somewhere. Maybe in an old photo album? She shrugged that thought away. Why would he be in one of their family albums? That's pretty dumb.

She sighed, looking at the sketch again. It looked almost exactly like him. The same way he'd appeared in her dreams. In her sketch, he was wearing his other clothes. The ones that were black and white. She thought the other clothes would be too common and undistinguishable. She shaded it a little more and then set it off. "I'd better go call Jonathan and Jeanette," she mumbled and stood, leaving the sketch on her desktop.

Once she'd walked out of her room, a mischievious little boy took his chance and scrambled in there. His blue eys were gleaming with slight joy. This should be fun, he thought. His eyes scanned the room for anything that could give him a clue about whatever the 'curse' was. His eyes landed on the sketchpad on the bed. He wlaked over, sitting down and grabbing. "Ooh," he cooed, looking at it. "Wonder who this guy is."

"None of your business!" came the voice of Alice. He turned, alarmed. "Give me that you little twerp!" She walked towards him and snatched away the book from his hands, angry.

"Hey!" he exclaimed, standing, hands balled into fists. "Mom says it's not polite to snatch!"

"Since when do you care about manners?" Alice retorted. "Going through my stuff without permission. Just get out already, Andrew!"

The boy did so. "Fine, but if you die because of the curse, I won't care!" With that said, he stormed out the room, slamming the door behind him.

"Stupid," Alcie mumbled. She looked at her sketch. "What curse, there's no curse." But the thought lingered. Andrew couldn't have thought that up by himself. Something must have led him on to thinking there was a curse. Worst yet, a curse that could kill. There's no curse, Alice scolded. Andrew's stupid, you know it. She hadn't called Jonathan or Jeanette yet. She'd abandoned going to the phone when she heard soft footsteps. As much stealth as Andrew had, he would never get away from her keen senses. Nothing got past her, nothing.

She sighed, plopping herself down on her bed. "There's no curse," she mumbled to herself, looking at the sketch still. "But then, where'd he get the idea from? It couldn't have been an overactive imagination, could it? He couldn't ahve made that up even if he had an overly active imagination. But there's no other logical reason for him to say something like that. Unless it's true. But it can't be true."

End Note: I liked this chapter personally. Hope you liked it! Remember, I'll often up-date, so be at the ready! Well, later! Please review!

--Airamé Phantom