(no subject)
Wordcount: 515
Warning: May be gross to some people.
Curled up on the ground, the boy breathed inhaled and exhaled shakily. Everything around him was beating and alive; it felt as if he was inside a chest. He could hear the opening and closing of the heart valves, could hear how the muscle contracted and relaxed.
Everything was loud, it felt like his eardrums were going to burst and he could feel the blood trickling down his neck already. He wanted to go home, he wanted to be safe again- he wanted to see mother and embrace her again. His lips parted as if to call out to her name, but he only choked and gasped as bile rose up and clogged his throat and he stopped curling up and got on all fours instead, trying to force away the disgusting liquid within his throat-
He finally coughed it out, the taste lingering in his mouth and he pathetically crawled away from the mess of bodily fluids that he had left behind and he sobbed.
He wanted to go home. He wanted to get out of here. He hadn’t meant to do it- why was this happening? He could hear laughs, shrieking and loud, jeeringly calling out to him and asking if he wanted to eat. Poor little boy, so hungry- so hungry and alone, does he want mother?
The child said nothing, his eyes wide and trembling as his lips parted to once more let him gag, his stomach revolting against the idea of food and he just wanted to go home, to a secure area- he wanted to see mother and his sister again. He wanted to see his brother again.
He didn’t care if they were going to make fun of him for vomiting, for crying, he just wanted to go back home and see them again.
Footfalls echoed everywhere, adding only to the beating of the muscle nearby- it had to be nearby, it had to be nearby- and the mocking tones of those unknown people. They kept shrieking, screaming and yelling insults at him.
He couldn’t tell who was where, who was who, or who was saying what any more. He wanted to go to school again, see his friends and not be alone.
But he had done wrong, he had done wrong and now he was stuck here forever. He had done wrong and he was never going to go home. He wanted to go home, he wanted to go home-
His ears were ringing and he wanted to claw his eyes out- it hurt, it hurt so much. He didn’t want to see any more when all he could see was nothing. He couldn’t’ see anything. His nails dug into something and it gave a squelch, oozing something watery out and onto his fingers and he sat back to stare at what was oozed out.
It looked like red slime. It was blood. It was blood so thick- it looked good. It looked really good. He was so thirsty and hungry and the slimy blood looked so good-
He was so hungry and thirsty.
He missed mother.
Warning: May be gross to some people.
Curled up on the ground, the boy breathed inhaled and exhaled shakily. Everything around him was beating and alive; it felt as if he was inside a chest. He could hear the opening and closing of the heart valves, could hear how the muscle contracted and relaxed.
Everything was loud, it felt like his eardrums were going to burst and he could feel the blood trickling down his neck already. He wanted to go home, he wanted to be safe again- he wanted to see mother and embrace her again. His lips parted as if to call out to her name, but he only choked and gasped as bile rose up and clogged his throat and he stopped curling up and got on all fours instead, trying to force away the disgusting liquid within his throat-
He finally coughed it out, the taste lingering in his mouth and he pathetically crawled away from the mess of bodily fluids that he had left behind and he sobbed.
He wanted to go home. He wanted to get out of here. He hadn’t meant to do it- why was this happening? He could hear laughs, shrieking and loud, jeeringly calling out to him and asking if he wanted to eat. Poor little boy, so hungry- so hungry and alone, does he want mother?
The child said nothing, his eyes wide and trembling as his lips parted to once more let him gag, his stomach revolting against the idea of food and he just wanted to go home, to a secure area- he wanted to see mother and his sister again. He wanted to see his brother again.
He didn’t care if they were going to make fun of him for vomiting, for crying, he just wanted to go back home and see them again.
Footfalls echoed everywhere, adding only to the beating of the muscle nearby- it had to be nearby, it had to be nearby- and the mocking tones of those unknown people. They kept shrieking, screaming and yelling insults at him.
He couldn’t tell who was where, who was who, or who was saying what any more. He wanted to go to school again, see his friends and not be alone.
But he had done wrong, he had done wrong and now he was stuck here forever. He had done wrong and he was never going to go home. He wanted to go home, he wanted to go home-
His ears were ringing and he wanted to claw his eyes out- it hurt, it hurt so much. He didn’t want to see any more when all he could see was nothing. He couldn’t’ see anything. His nails dug into something and it gave a squelch, oozing something watery out and onto his fingers and he sat back to stare at what was oozed out.
It looked like red slime. It was blood. It was blood so thick- it looked good. It looked really good. He was so thirsty and hungry and the slimy blood looked so good-
He was so hungry and thirsty.
He missed mother.