Dreaming About Vomiting Blood Mga Nobela at Kwento

The deep crimson stains stood out starkly against the delicate fabric, an undeniable reminder of the gruesome fate they had endured. A wave of nausea surged through me, threatening to overwhelm my senses. The metallic scent of blood filled the air, intertwining with the sterile laboratory odors, and I felt my stomach churn in disgust. I clamped my hand over my mouth, desperate to suppress the rising bile, but the taste of revulsion lingered on my tongue.

I could only nod my head. I laid back on the bed, still feeling exhausted and then I had to run. I barely made it to the toilet as I started vomiting blood. It changed from dark red to black as I kept vomiting. I felt Adara behind me as she placed a cold face cloth on the back of my neck and sat with me until it stopped.

That light was too pure and bright, revealing me for who I was. The filth churning inside me was something detestable and loathsome. It was so overwhelming that I did not dare to touch it. After it happened a few times, Ethan developed stomach problems. When I was not paying attention, he would endure the pain silently with his brows tightly furrowed. He was too afraid to let me find out and never told me. It was not until one morning, after staying up all night to care for me, that he fainted from the pain at his office. That was when I realized just how severe his condition had become.

Well, I thought I was rushing but in reality, I was barely taking steps forward. Let me do the calculations for you. I hate seeing blood, I hate it more than anything and I pass out when I see it. So when I say see it I mean it in every sense, even if I remember it very vividly in my mind, my head becomes light and my stomach churns. It becomes inevitable to hold back the bile rising in my throat, the bitter tang it leaves as it travels up and down. I feel like passing out over and over again as I remember the warmness and gloopiness of the thick red liquid staining my fingers. “Mother…fucker.” I curse, the last of my words being pushed out by a burp.

I run past the kitchen and out of the back door, which leads to an empty alleyway. Stepping out, I bend over and empty my guts by vomiting blood - that's alot of blood. The pain pushes me to drop on my knees as I try to grasp something desperately to keep myself up on my feet. My eyes water up and I sniff, shaking my head. Black dots appear in my sight and I open my eyes wide to push this haziness away. This is not a good time to drop unconscious. Selvia and Olivia will be back and they will suspect me. Pushing myself up on my feet, I wipe my mouth with my sleeve. They can smell blood on me too. Shit. What am I supposed to do now? I have to think quickly.

Experiencing such pain was not something a normal person could endure. "Ufh!" The disciple’s face blushed a crimson color before he suddenly vomited a mouthful of blood and looked like he was about to fall over. After the Muddled Origin Clan disciple vomited a mouthful of blood, he looked like a cooked prawn and was unusually red. Moments later, he, unable to keep himself composed, fell to the ground with a thud.

Victoria helped me stand, supporting me as I rinsed my mouth at the sink. My reflection looked terrible…I was pale and sweating, my eyes looked too wide. She led me back to the bedroom and made me sit on the edge of the bed. “Tell me what happened,” she said, sitting beside me. “What did you dream about?” I tried to remember the details, but they were already fading. Slipping away like water through my fingers. “I don’t know,” I said honestly. “Blood. Someone was dying. The smell of…” I stopped, my stomach threatening to rebel again.

I knelt down to get a closer look, my chest tightening. Dad had always been healthy. Never complained. Never got sick. So where did this come from? Then I checked the trash bin. On top were a few clean tissues, but underneath... the ones crumpled and shoved deep were stained in a deep, terrifying red. Too much blood. Too vivid. Not a nosebleed. Not a cut. This had been vomited. My hands started to shake. My brain refused to connect the dots. But my heart knew. Something was very, very wrong.

Rowan said mercilessly. My breath hitched. For a second, the world tilted. I tried to answer him, but the pain hit me hard — a burning wave rising through my chest. The poison. I stumbled, clutching my stomach. My vision blurred. I could feel it coming, the bile rising up, and I tried to swallow it down, to keep some shred of dignity. But I couldn’t. Blood spilled from my mouth. Rowan froze, horror flickering across his face,"You’re vomiting blood! What’s happening to you?"

I even heard Skylar's shouting behind me to stop me, but I ignored everything and locked the door of the washroom and vomited over the toilet seat. I fell down and felt my surroundings getting blurry. I vomit all over the toilet seat once more. My eyes widened when I noticed the blood coming out with vomit. I quickly pulled the hem of my shirt upwards and saw that bruise my uncle used to beat with so much cruelty, and one day when he was beating me by his legs, kicking me continuously, I vomited blood there. I went to the doctor who told them that I had an internal injury that damaged my internal body system, making me suffer from suffocation if I put weight through my stomach. This morning,