Markiplier Moments

Hardcore Sickiplier

Y'know what the worst feeling in the world is? Being sick.

So sick you can't get out of bed, eat, or remember what day it is, you're sweaty but freezing cold and can't hold any sort of food or drink down. Well, for no more than an hour. Having to change the bedsheets daily due to the bathroom seeming to be unusually far away. Your own innards, uncontrollably spilt all over the room, producing an aroma everything less than that of a sweet white lily. Pain. Lord, the pain.

You thought I was kidding? This wasn't a cutesy little cold. Whatever demon had contaminated your stomach and intestines was a ruthless bitch.

You lived alone. You'd just moved to California, in fact. The apartment was beginning to feel settled, you even had a couple of previously residing friends visit over the weekend. They loved the place-- but of course they're three guys living under the same (really nice) roof, they were just proud to see you starting somewhere with a glowing smile on your face.

Mark, Ryan and Matt greeted you happily with hugs and video games. Los Angeles, however, didn't seem as excited.

A nasty mysterious stomach bug was no way to be welcomed into a new city. Right before the one month mark was when something of a higher power struck darkness upon your soul, rendering you bed bound. No you're not possessed by satan, though this was definitely how you pictured it looking and feeling. You were supposed to be enjoying the so called beauty of Southern California but that got whipped away by a vicious morning sickness. For someone who gets sickly on a semi-regular basis this wouldn't be anything new, that was the catch though. You never got sick and especially not of this caliber.

The first day hit you like a five pound brick, it was the lack of anticipation that worsened the effects. Now, everyone can admit that when they become ill they almost instinctively cling to and yearn for their mother. There had to be some sort of research proving this phenomenon to be linked back to the animal instincts of monkeys, right? That was also different. Not having somebody to take care of you and make sure everything was under control. A plush security blanket for all the pain and discomfort, that for the first time, wasn't there.

Day two wasn't quite as bad. Only because you now knew what to expect to a small degree. The intense vomiting hadn't subsided, it was opposite, getting to the point that not even a few sips of bland ginger ale would settle. You hadn't contacted anyone in two days straight and your head couldn't have been farther from the thought, however your phone started building up with texts and missed calls.

Mom, Missed Call (5)

F/N, Missed Call (2)

Big Tooth Magee, Missed Call (4)

Matt H Ew, Missed Call (3)

These, along with at least 20 texts from them and others, cluttered your lock screen. You laid in bed scrolling for a bit with a cool damp cloth across your forehead and distracted yourself from the knots trying to tighten in your stomach. It was late morning, you opened the curtains of your bedroom in an attempt to seek vitamins in the form of sunlight. Was it working? No.

At the bottom of the dimly lit screen one name gave your belly a stir.

Merkiderp, Missed Call (3)

Very large, sickeningly pleasant butterflies fluttered about when you saw that Mark called as well. God dammit, you thought. The physical feeling made you heave though, it was under an oddly nice circumstance.

...Okay okay, yes, you may have possibly maybe had some slight Tiny Box Tim sized feelings for Mark. You loved all three of them to death, like three long lost brothers with goofiness and over-protective antics all included. But when feelings of love begin to develop there's no controlling it. Thinking of his face, his stupid video ideas he'd always tell you before anyone else, his deep contagious roar of a laugh and how his eyes squinted to hardly nothing when he did, all of it made you...made you wanna vomit. In a good way. The best way possible.