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chapt two weekday of torture.
This can't be real. Surviving rabies would've been easier.
Black sticky blood clung to the stained, once white bandage on her left wrist. A domino effect from not listening to her older sister, oh she'd love this. Doctors prescribed ibuprofen; it made her vomit. It made her vomit black.
Tissues stained black rained into the school toilet. Hands furiously scrubbing it from her nose, ears ringing in a quiet ache ignoring the prickling tears in her eyes. Caught bawling in the toilets on her second day? Not the best impression as the new girl. Yesterday was splendid, she made her mark. Today she'll leave school grounds on a gurney.
A knock rumbled the stall door. She winced tongue curling at the moist metallic taste from the thin tissue.
"Give me a minute." Melanthios tried softening her rough voice. Thin braids tried tangling in the tissue so she whipped them back brain temping her to rip them if they fall down one more time. Removing the tissue for one second, she'll run back in nose gushing liquid black down her lips. The handle rattles. This is the only occupied stall it's still second period. "Give me a min ━━━ !"
Her throat clenched. Acid swirls around and around reaching for her tongue. When will death come? Her knees crumbled up, the bite snarling beneath her skin killing whatever strength was in it.
"Melanie, are you ━━━ "
"That's not my fucking name." Melanthios snarled, nails digging in her palm. Misery twists into anger. Imagine if she was still at the circus enduring whatever sickness this is; the show must go on, no matter what.
"Um, sorry, Ms, uh sent me out to get you," A girl stammered, referring to their maths teacher.
"Well, I think I'm dying," She gagged. She can only imagine the rumours that will spread because she, a girl is vomiting. "I'm going to need more than two fucking minutes ━━━ !" Her words are cut off by pulling out black fluid, staining the toilets seat and tears float her cheeks. What's happening to her?!
She felt so old and worn. The skin around her wrist rips off like stitches cutting off. Sweat drips from her forehead and her torso shivers. Nothing is good enough. It hurts. Every piece of her bones creaks and groans. The black glop never stops. It gurgles in her mouth, the bedroom floor more crumbled black tissue then brown wood waving a putrid stench of something rotten. It's her. She's rotting.
You look gross, Bette commented when she turned.
Her right thumb wiped the black drool from the corner of her mouth. Bob's Burgers played in the corner on top of her cotton pink suitcase. This is a bad sign, like need to go to thehospital bad sign. Her wrist sawed with anguish. Fingers stretched for her phone, for help. Somebody help her. Melanthios grunted, tears sliding down the corners of her eyes fingers grazing the edge of her phone on the nightstand. A few more inches. Air leaves her lungs squashing her windpipe pumping black stained tears on her pillow. A little closer and ━━━ ah! a cramp cracks her wrist barely hearing the phone hit the ground.
