Byler // oneshots ig

~TWENTY SEVEN~

Tw : description of blood, throat pain, coughing, death, thoughts of dying (dont worry it's a little sweet too!!!)

Copper taste fills his mouth, a horrible feeling of little wounds against the roof if his mouth. Burning against the flower petrels that he was trowing up in the sink, that was once a pearly colour, but now covered with a dark red fluid. Rose petals were crawling up his throat. He forced them out feeling sore. His cheeks wet from the tears that spilled out of the pain.

He forced himself not to look down at the gorey mess he made, only looking at himself in the mirror. He already looked horrible there, blood dripping down his chin. He turned on the tap, hearing the water flow down the pipes. He looked down and saw the petals he threw up not being able to go down the drain. He scooped them up and walked towards his room, trowing them in the bowl he was collecting them. This was the third time this week already.

He knows he already has over 40 petals. It keeps multiplying. 20 this time. It started with night black and then evening sky purple roses, now they were pearly white. He doesn't know anything about flowers, only that red roses stand for love, or something like that.

His throat still hurt. Like someone was scraping the insides.

This experience is pure torture.

He plopped down on his bed, resting his head on the pillow. His eyes closing and he rested.

-

When he woke up his sore throat hadn't disappeared. And he saw thorns coming out of his bare arms, more blood, so much blood. He felt so empty.

"Mike to Will" roared his walkie talkie groggily through his room. Will sat up, very sleepy, and grabbed his walkie.

"Will aRe you there?" He sounded again.

"Yes im here, what is it " Will said.

"Hey! So is it alright if i come over? I miss you."

Oh. Fuck he needed to clean himself up. Especially those thorns.

"Oh yea. You're welcome here. See you."

"Amazing, see you" and then a buzzing sound loudened through the room. He put the thing out and plopped down on his bed again, covering his face with his hands. After a few minutes he decided against it and stood up and walked towards the bathroom. On his way he heard Joyce saying a goodmorning to him. But with a look down at his arms she had an alarming look on her face.

Oh, he wasn't wearing long sleeves. The thorns were visible.

"Will... what is going on?" She said, she had dropped the laundry to the floor in shock, and held his arm, to examine it.

He quickly pulled his arm back, " oh its nothing, I was trying to grab some roses from the window and fell" he said softly, the last part of his sentence whispered. "Mike is coming in a few. " He added quickly with a smile.

His mom nodded, smiling aswell, quickly forgetting about the thorns, not quite letting it go, but she trusted him. He hated it that he used that trust. But its for the best, she would be worried to death if she knew what was going on. There was no cure, he would eventually just die, the thorns filling up his lungs in the end, or he would confess, the last one wasn't an option though. It's not like he didn't like the first option, it sounded a million times worse.

Will was in the bathroom, desperately trying to remove the thorns, but whenever he touched them it felt like he was splintering his bones. Like he was bleeding inside his body. He coughed again, just a little bit of blood came up. He eventually gave up and just put on a long sleeve, even if it was summer.