His Jars of Hyacinths (STYLE)

3

POV: Kyle

i didn't sleep.

it was sunday now, and i felt exhaustion gnawing at my bones and tearing me apart. but, i didn't sleep. i couldn't.

i coughed up another petal last night. three, actually. but it was strange, because the most recent time, the petal came with a pair.

the burning pain in my throat and chest had increased when i found myself coughing up not one, but two purple hyacinth petals at 3 o'clock on a warm sunday morning. of course i was shocked, but i also felt slight satisfaction from this.

i was right. there is something wrong with me, and i was right. i guessed it. i love being right.

but there was concern mingled with my pride.

does this mean it wont stop? what if i never stop vomiting flowers and i end up puking the whole botanic gardens? it would hurt like fuck. should i tell Kenny? maybe i can wait till school tomorrow and then tell him in person so he can see how serious this could be. because oh god, it hurts. i wish my parents were home so i could ask them for help.

thoughts race through my mind as i lay in my bed, looking at the four jars on my shelf. four jars full of singular petals, except the one on the furthest right, that held two. oh, how it hurt when i coughed up two.

i pull out my phone to pass some more time, not wanting to face the day. and i'll be honest, i didn't do much. i barely left my room.

it was 3pm, and i was coughing more flowers. another two blood-splattered petals i coughed into my palm, as i gasped for breath afterwards. my throat was burning and my throat in unbearable agony after every single flower petal that came from my stomach. i don't even know how i kept managing to cough these up. i should probably be concerned.

i hear a quiet gasp, and i snap my head to my bedroom door, discarding the petals quickly. but it's too late.

Ike stands in the doorframe, his shaking hand clutching the door handle as he stares, dumbfounded at me.

"Hey.. Ike." i mumble, giving him a reassuring smile.

"You.. you're bleeding, from your mouth.. and those flowers-"

i rub the trail of blood off my chin slightly too fast, and i notice how worried Ike looks.

"Ike, please don't tell mom. I'm fine, I promise, okay? I'm just a little bit sick." i soften my voice as i talk to him, trying to calm him down.

"You didn't eat dinner.. or breakfast... or lunch.." he looks at me, concerned, as he starts to tear up.

"I've not been hungry, that's all. Please, don't cry, I'm completely fine bud!" i grin at him warmly, but i feel like i was trying to convince myself more than just my little brother. i stand up, and hold my arms out for a hug. he quickly runs into my arms, sobbing into my pyjama shirt.

"I thought you were dying, are you gonna die?" he cries softly, holding me close.

"No, Ike, I'm going to be fine in a few days, okay? Don't stress it, I'm perfectly okay. And besides, I know how to care for myself." i chuckle slightly, ignoring my day old lunch still on my desk, and a bunch of screwed up bloody tissues scattered on the floor and littering the side of my bed.

"Promise..?" he whispers, sniffling.

"Promise."

-

the rest of the day went by slowly. Ike watched me eat some early dinner, then I headed up to catch up on some sleep before school. My parents would be back tomorrow midday, so maybe I should lock my door so they don't see the freaky ass nature resort stacking up on my shelf.

i started to cough up three petals aswell. maybe i should be concerned that i could be dying.

i have a lot to tell Kenny at the bus stop.

[675 words]