I'm going to start doing these because I saw someone else do this and I think they're super meaningful. By the way, I won't be doing, depress, self harm, suicided or anything of that sort. I don't like that stuff so yea. And by the way, I'm not goin...
WritingRandom165for you and sorry it took so long. Hope you enjoy! 🖤
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The sun blinded him as he shifted in the covers, sweat beading at the top of the blonds head. The churning in his stomach made him gag slightly and the fuzzy feeling drifted in his body making him quickly shift out of bed and to the bathroom.
Corbyn opened his bathroom door and dropped himself in front of the toilet, throw up and bile immediately leaked past his lips. He cried almost instantly as the power in his body had faded completely.
He heaved for a second, putting his shaky hand on his chest to try and shake back a sob. Suddenly, his throat bubbled up including the air bubbles in his stomach making him retract to the toilet, puking once again. Drool dropped off his lips and the tears went down the toilet along with the vomit.
"Shit" he mumbled realizing he had an interview today.
He swallowed the lump in his throat before flushing the toilet. Corbyn wasn't usually the one to miss an interview because he was sick but he might have to if he continues to throw up.
Corbyn slowed down his heavy breathing and limply stood to his feet, his body raddled slightly but he controlled himself so he could clean up.
After that he got in an outfit, putting on a t-shirt, jeans, socks and shoes. His eyes fluttered close every now and then from the lack of energy but he was trying his hardest not to pass out.
He grips the door frame, containing his urge to fall to the ground but he got himself together and dragged himself downstairs.
When he entered the kitchen, he looked up with his watery eyes to see his four best friends eating breakfast. Corbyn almost gags to the smell of the greasy foods, bacon, sausage etc.
He holds his hands to his mouth and the other to his stomach.
"Corbyn, you alright?" He heard his other blond friend ask.
Corbyn needed to tell them, even if the long day they had was going to be ruined.
The pore boy frantically shook his head, the gurgling in his stomach making him lean over and almost hurl but he contained himself and runs to the bathroom.
When he got in, he plopped down on the tile and grips the toilet seat before throwing up again. The energy once again leaving his body.
"Stop" he whispered to himself before throwing up again, more tightness in his chest grew.
"Hey bud" he heard from the door but the soothing voice was washed out by the sick boy gagging and throwing up again.
