YOUTUBER IMAGINES/STORIES

DIZZY ~ Care

I clutched my stomach in pain. I tried not to think about it, or it seemed too dramatic, but it hurt. So much. I felt the tears brimming my eyes, my head heating up, and fingers changing from my original skin color to pale white from how hard I grabbed on.

It wasn't cramps, I didn't get kicked in the gut, but I was wounded badly. It happened when my cousin was chopping wood and decided he wanted to try it sideways. Me watching from the left of the log got a feel on the axe. I had to undergo many surgeries. I hadn't told a lot of people about it besides Dizzy and Will. I understand that they're the ones who try to help the best they can or not make jokes about it. And it's not that I don't trust anyone else in the friend group, but mainly because I don't want them to worry too much. And also because I'm not comfortable sharing everything out like that.

I rushed to the bathroom and took off my sweater and shirt. I slightly tugged on my stomach and hung my head down to see the damage. I gasp at the pool of blood gushing down and reaching my pants. I take some toilet paper and wipe down the blood. Then, I fix it with an alcohol pad, stitches, and Band-Aids.

I leave the bathroom with only my shirt on, and sit down on the couch. I lay sideways with my head on my hand. I cover the wound with my hand gently placed over it. Dizzy gets up and walks over to me. "Can you help me with something babe?" He asks.

I nod and follow him to another room. He takes my hand in his and looks at me. "Can I.. move your shirt?" He questions. I say yes. There's no point anymore. He knows.

He breathes in from his mouth through clutched teeth and slightly raises his eyebrows. He takes off my shirt and comes back with a first aid kit. He removed my band-aid and gently hovered over the wound with rubbing alcohol. I bite my lip and groan at the pain. He puts on a gauze pad and medical tape. He hands me my shirt and kisses my forehead. "You know you can ask me for help, right? I don't want you to struggle so much."

I nod. I don't feel like crying. I feel tired. We walked back to the room where everyone was at. We both sit side by side and I rest my head on his shoulder. My eyes are red and I have dark eyebags. Everything that has been going on with my wound has been so tiring. I just wanted to sleep.

" 'She good?" Will asks once everyone goes to a silence. "Yeah, she's just tired. She needs rest." He answers. Will nods in understanding and everyone else continues with their conversations, unknown to the problems with my stomach.