Dreaming Of Coughing Up Blood Novels & Stories

Her form began to fade right in front of me, dissolving into mist and disappearing into the thin air. I reached out to touch her, filled with desperation. “How? Tell me how… please.” But the dream collapsed around me before I could get an answer. I woke up choking. My throat was burning and my breathing was shallow as my chest heaved. I coughed hard, trying to clear my throat, but hot liquid splattered across my hands. Blood. My blood. It dropped down from my lips, staining my clothes, the sheets and the floor. I gasped for air and wiped at my mouth with shaking fingers. The rate of metal filled my mouth, thick and nauseating.

I breathed, sitting up on my bed. My eyes instantly went to my hands, and they were free of the black veins… meaning that what I thought just happened was only a dream? Or an illusion? Still confused, I tried to move, but that ended up shattering my body into a coughing spree. I coughed so hard that blood filled my mouth—just like in that dream. What the hell was happening? I tried to grab a glass of water to control it, but the cough only got stronger. I violently coughed my way to the ground while my chest burned.

I knew I was dreaming, but as the sound grew louder, I realised that something was wrong. I awoke to my wife coughing blood as she slipped in and out of consciousness.

I didn’t get to think much more before something cold settled in my stomach and the hairs on my arms stood up. I didn’t hear their footsteps ahead of me anymore. What the— “Mel… I think something’s strange he—” My voice cracked mid-sentence as a violent cough tore up my throat. I doubled over, coughing again, harder this time but a warm metallic taste coated my tongue. Blood. I was coughing blood. Why? I don’t eat peanuts, so this shouldn’t... “Rosa.” My mind reached for her immediately, my pulse spiking. “Rosa, something’s wrong,”

I coughed up blood. A searing pain invaded my skull and the image of Theodore coughing up blood right before he died kept flashing in my mind's eye. I didn't want to die, not yet anyway. I rolled to the side to get a glimpse of what they looked like. I was horrified when I saw three creatures with blood red eyes and fangs hovering over me. 'I must be dreaming' I thought. But I knew I was not.

What’s more horrifying about the dream is the possibility of something like that happening. “I. . . .,” I try to speak amidst crying. “I had a bad dream.” I broke out again. My hands sink into my hair, roughening it as I try to get the image of my battered face out of my head. There was so much blood. . . My blood. I think I’m going crazy. “In my dream I died!” I sob. “Brutally and I don’t want to-“ Just then, warm arms envelop my body, pulling me into an embrace.

Clara reappears in the corner of my vision, sprawled out on the ground, and my heart stutters. “You’re not dead, Clara, explain it, you’re not gone, you’re here, please stay with me–” I’m rambling at this point, shaking her shoulder desperately, but there’s no response from her. Suddenly Clara starts coughing up blood, and a new wave of fear hits me. “No! Clara!” I scream as her blood stains my clothes red. “Stay with me, Clara, don’t go–” And then I hear a sharp ringing in my ears, and I’m ripped from the dream.

Kael's voice was sharp. I opened my mouth to respond, but all that came out was a violent cough. Blood splattered onto the table. The room fell silent. I coughed again, harder this time, and more blood poured from my mouth. "No, no, no," I heard my dad's voice, panicked and desperate. Kael's chair scraped harshly against the floor as he lunged toward me, but I couldn't stop coughing. Couldn't stop the blood pouring from my mouth. My vision blurred, tears mixing with the liquid streaming down my face.

I stood up, and began caressing her back because her cough seemed to be uncontrollable and I could see from her expressio- “Oh my god blood! Hellen, what’s happening, you’re coughing blood. Who do I need to call?!” Hemoptysis has a lot of causes, I just hope her disease isn’t an uncurable one. But from her state, being unable to form words and talk properly because of her incessant coughing, it seems to be worse. I began ransacking the room for some water and finally succeeded in looking for it when I went to where she had taken my food earlier.

My vision flickered and spots of black clouded my sight, but I did not know why. It could not be grief, could it? That would be too humiliating. 'Lana Branch, you really misjudged him, didn't you?'