Audible Wheezing Novels & Stories

Thе drugѕ they gаvе mе dоn’t help аt аll—thеу make mе dіzzу and dіѕоrіеntеd. My breath іѕ raw in my thrоаt. I hеаr a whееzіng ѕоund, аѕ іf I’m hаvіng аn asthma аttасk. All I can hеаr іѕ thе ѕоund of іt wrenching аt mу windpipes. Thе fear іѕ choking mе. I wonder fоr a second іf I’m оvеrdоѕіng.

I follow his instructions. "Where's your inhaler?" He gets out of bed, and I point at the nightstand on his side. He quickly checks the drawers and finds it. "In... Out... In..." he joins me on the bed and hugs me gently, he then gives me the inhaler and I direct my eyes to him as my wheezing slows a little. Then I place the inhaler by my side as we breathe in and out together. It was only just a nightmare. When my wheezing stops he asks, brows furrowed.

I could hardly hear myself scream. I struggled but it felt like nothing because I couldn’t move at all. My breathing grew more intense, and I began to feel like there wasn’t enough air for me to breathe. I started wheezing and hyperventilating and before I knew it, the darkness grew even darker as I felt my eyes close.

It looked somewhat uncomfortable yet he made it look like a nice sleeping position. What's more, he was also snoring and when Wilson listened closely, he realized both snoring men made two distinct sounds that blended together in a certain rhythm. Shorty was snoring grandly and deeply while Jim's had a slightly lighter pitch with a small wheezing sound at the end that sounded like a whistle.

It was so loud that I never heard the footsteps before Faith screamed with her chair being moved. “JAY! RAZOR!” he shouted. “Let her go,” I shouted. “WHO DO YOU HAVE DOWN THERE? I SWEAR IF YOU HURT HER.” “Please stop. Can’t you hear her? She is asthmatic. Take her blindfold off. She could die.” The sound coming upstairs became louder. I could hear Faith wheezing. I was looking around like I could see. My heart is beating through to my ribcage. I could hear the sound in my ears. I was trying to get the movement happening as my chair was lifted up.

The way the blood is pooling beneath me, the way my breaths are shallow and I keep wheezing, I know. I try to move, just to prove to myself that I’m not done yet, but the fire in my chest flares, and I choke on the air I’m trying to pull in. My vision blurs, and I think for a second that I might black out. Not yet. Not yet.

“Does he have any hives anywhere?” “His arm is a deep hue of red. His back is showing large patches of pink.” “What about his chest, face and neck?” “Face and neck are the same as his back. With the gown on I can’t see his chest and I don’t want to stress him further as he’s in need of a nebulizer treatment. His wheeze is getting worse.” “Can he swallow?” “Hand me his glass of juice please?” I ask no one in particular. Arianna brings it to me.

“Are you feeling any other symptoms? Muscle pain, dizziness, nausea?” She exhales slowly, her fingers curling weakly around the blanket. “Fatigue. And my chest feels... heavy.” That is not a good sign. I move in to check her vitals. The heart rate monitor shows a slightly elevated pulse, but nothing alarming yet. I pick up my stethoscope, put it on, and press the diaphragm lightly against her chest. “Breathe in for me,” I instruct. She inhales slowly, but the second she exhales, I hear a faint wheeze.

How could he– No. Not enough air… I wheezed, coughing, struggling to pull any air into my lungs. Dizzy and nauseous, I urged my body forward, stiff legs refusing to cooperate. I grabbed the third bag with my mouth, just barely breaking it with my teeth. It burst within the box. Fuck.

I chirped happily and immediately the window began to make a wheezing sound, going down gradually. My fist hung in the air as my eyes locked in with the last person I expected to see.