Coughing Up Blood After Running Novels & Stories

I gasped immediately, looking at him and the injury I had caused. "Run..." I muttered to myself as I sprinted off into the woods. I left him there; I didn’t look back; I didn’t care if he died or not. I wanted him to die; I needed him to die. The woods and dried leaves with trees passed my vision as I ran. I didn’t stop; I didn’t pause for breaths. My breathing began cutting. I have asthma; I’ve never gone this far before in running. I’ve been specifically told that I shouldn’t go for running sports because of my asthma.

I choked on my cough again, for the second time which I used my hand to hold back. My eyes spun like I was going to collapse because of coughing. I shut my eyes and shook my head so I would be fine but suddenly, I felt something different this time. "Are you okay ma'?" Sarah rubbed my back gently seeing my reactions. My hand became sticky and my chest throbbed so hard, leaving me in terror for a second. Taking my hand off my mouth, I couldn't believe what I saw on it. It was… "Blood?!! Blood?? You are bleeding??" Sarah yelled at the top of her voice with her eyes bulging out to what she saw on my palm.

Instantly running up to the closest doctor, Xavia was quick to ask, “H-how is he looking? Why the blood…?!” Removing his mask, the doctor sighed before saying, “Don’t worry, he’s fine, Mrs. Burton. Basically, he coughed out blood after feeling relief after a long time. He had apparently been under immense stress, and it didn’t help that he hadn’t rested properly for a long while… With that said, though his life isn’t in danger right now, please try to get him to sleep more… Otherwise, he may truly be at risk of dying…”

Josephine covered her mouth with one hand and her stomach with the other and kept coughing for a while. Once the coughing subsided, she looked at her palm and saw bright red blood on it. Josephine's heart raced with panic as she saw the blood. She quickly grabbed some tissues to wipe them off. Meanwhile, tears rolled down her cheeks. She realized that she was really sick. She was even coughing up blood. After using a lot of tissues to clean her hand, she threw the bloodstained tissues into the trash bin. After returning to the bed, she noticed a phone at the bedside.

He coughed, bending and hunching over, the violent spasms sounding as though he would cough up his very heart and lungs. Vanessa rose, intending to help him steady his breathing and fetch him water. But Cameron pushed her hand away, and what he coughed up was bright red blood. The vivid crimson stained his pale lips, a shocking splash of color like a crack spreading across a glass sphere. Vanessa's breath hitched. "How could this happen? I'll get a doctor." "Don't." Cameron stopped her. "It's alright. This illness isn't new; I've grown used to it."

Resulting in coughing blood, serious numbness in knees and slowed heart beat. " This is terrible... I don't know what causes this frequent stroke of gush in my body. Ouch, my knees," I cried, as I struggled to get by the support of the nearby table. I somehow managed to walk to the bathroom and bring the tissue papers for cleaning the blood. Even my top got some drops of my nasty blood. " I should take a shower." Throwing the tissue papers in the trash can, I pulled out my top and unhooked my bra. Getting every single piece of cloth off me, I step under the running cold shower. The cold water soaked my body, dissolving my falling tears in it.

A few drops went down the wrong pipe, making me cough violently. "Warm up? That was a warm-up," I yelled. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, staring at him in disbelief. "You made me run for over an hour." Was this man related to the devil? I had run until I couldn't feel my toes, and he was calling it a warm-up.

Each step felt like a battle, one that I was losing, I feared that if I stopped, I would never be able to move again. Finally reaching the safety of my room, I shut the door behind me, leaning against it for a moment to catch my breath. But as soon as I did, the coughing started. It was sharp, a dry, painful hacking that left my throat burning and sucked all of the air from my tired lungs. I looked down at my hands, feeling something wet and sticky on them. To my horror, there was blood. Dark, crimson streaks dripped from my fingers, staining my skin.

Not exhausted—she knew that kind of weight well—but *thick*, as if her blood had turned one shade closer to sludge. She had splashed her face. Bent over the basin. Coughed once. The sound was deeper than a simple clearing of the throat. Wet. She had straightened, wiped at her mouth more from habit than concern, and then glanced down. Red. Not a torrent. Not a flood. Just a fan of tiny droplets along the heel of her hand. For a瞬, her mind refused to make the connection. This happens to other wolves, she thought stupidly. After a bad fight. After a lung-puncture. After poison.

Slowly I tried to move my body to reach my bag, I am pretty sure that my bag is lying somewhere near. Suddenly, I felt like I am gonna puke and my breathing got erratic and my ribs and lungs felt like someone had punched them repeatedly. I lifted my body and crouched on my knees. The bile rose in my throat and I puked on the floor, the taste of the vomit is coppery and I know what that means, I vomited blood and it's pretty serious. I need to call someone to help me. I don't wanna die.