just_1_word | 17.2. Pain
17.2. Pain
[Follows THIS and THIS]
Tim knew the minute he woke up that he was going to hurl again. It was probably what woke him up in the first place, but he didn’t exactly have mind to analyse it as he struggled out of the rumpled sweat-soaked sheets to get up and make a disoriented stumble for the bathroom up the hall with his hand over his mouth. He reached the bathroom by sheer miracle with barely a couple of seconds to spare before he retched into the toilet. Dizziness washed over him and he felt faint, so he closed his eyes to try and stop the wooziness as he continued to be violently sick.
It felt like he was there for hours when really it was probably just a couple of minutes. His stomach now felt less like he had swallowed razorblades and more like he was being stabbed forcefully and repeatedly with a double-edged sword. In fact, he was sure he had never felt this sick or in this much pain in his life. With a weak moan, barely noticing how much his knees hurt from kneeling on the cold tiles, he opened his eyes with some slow blinks. Good move, in hindsight…
Blood.
The toilet was full of bright red blood.
He put his hand up and wiped his mouth on his fingers, looking down at them to find a smear of more blood streaked across them. A heavy swallow issued an acidic metallic taste that nearly had him heaving all over again. His mind was groggy and he didn’t link the mess with what had come out of him immediately. He emitted a small choked breath and looked back into the blood splattered porcelain bowl. “Oh… god…” he got out hoarsely, the shock already starting to claw at him. “Sam…” he rasped, trying to push up off the floor again, but the dizziness just dragged him back to his knees.
He needed help, and he needed it fast.
Sam Jameson [supermarketsam] referenced with permission
Word Count | 328
[Follows THIS and THIS]
Tim knew the minute he woke up that he was going to hurl again. It was probably what woke him up in the first place, but he didn’t exactly have mind to analyse it as he struggled out of the rumpled sweat-soaked sheets to get up and make a disoriented stumble for the bathroom up the hall with his hand over his mouth. He reached the bathroom by sheer miracle with barely a couple of seconds to spare before he retched into the toilet. Dizziness washed over him and he felt faint, so he closed his eyes to try and stop the wooziness as he continued to be violently sick.
It felt like he was there for hours when really it was probably just a couple of minutes. His stomach now felt less like he had swallowed razorblades and more like he was being stabbed forcefully and repeatedly with a double-edged sword. In fact, he was sure he had never felt this sick or in this much pain in his life. With a weak moan, barely noticing how much his knees hurt from kneeling on the cold tiles, he opened his eyes with some slow blinks. Good move, in hindsight…
Blood.
The toilet was full of bright red blood.
He put his hand up and wiped his mouth on his fingers, looking down at them to find a smear of more blood streaked across them. A heavy swallow issued an acidic metallic taste that nearly had him heaving all over again. His mind was groggy and he didn’t link the mess with what had come out of him immediately. He emitted a small choked breath and looked back into the blood splattered porcelain bowl. “Oh… god…” he got out hoarsely, the shock already starting to claw at him. “Sam…” he rasped, trying to push up off the floor again, but the dizziness just dragged him back to his knees.
He needed help, and he needed it fast.
Sam Jameson [supermarketsam] referenced with permission
Word Count | 328