Feeling Cold And Shaking Uncontrollably の小説・ストーリー

I was throwing up, my body was shaking, I was feeling so cold, and my head was hurting. I'm sweating. This feeling is so familiar, like a tightness in my chest that feels like it'll kill me at any moment. “Gruvv, Gruvv!" Andrew called me and dragged me out of the bathroom and into the bedroom. He pulled me in tight and let me sit on the floor, and I tried to catch my breath. "Damn it! Gruvv! Come back!" Andrew let out a squeak and I looked at him. My body stopped shaking for a second.

He was so scared that he went completely pale, his body shivering. “It’s so cold.” He shouted weakly, “Someone, help me! It’s so cold. Turn off the air conditioning. I’m going to freeze!”

My heart starts thudding through my stomach and I begin to physically shake. I have literally no idea how he’s going to react at all and I’m tense with nerves, I think I may throw up. I’m hot and unwell from the sheer stress of the last twelve hours and I’m pretty sure I may pass out before the hour is done. All my strength saps away and I’m left feeling weak and shaky as I tentatively proceed.

She hadn’t thought anything of it, not anything big anyways, until the shivers started hitting her body uncontrollably, her muscles spasming randomly. By now, after days of suffering from muscles aches, constant sweating, uncontrollable shivering, nausea and dizziness, the muscle spasms seem like a small thing. Althea rolls around the bed, the sheets soaked in sweat sticking to her skin disgustingly as she searches for a warmer spot. She is so cold. Even with four fluffy blankets, Althea can’t seem to get warm, the sweat continuously produced by her body cooling her down the moment she feels comfortable. It starts becoming increasingly difficult to breathe, the weight of the blankets crushin

"The cold will bring your temperature down. Focus on my voice and breathe." She was shaking, her teeth chattering, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps that fogged in the cold air. The heat was still in her, fighting against the cold, and I could feel her body trembling between the two extremes, her muscles spasming, her skin goosebumped and flushed at the same time. I did not let go of her. I held her against my chest and let the cold water do its work.

Each sound, each movement, felt like a constant, agonizing reminder of the terrifying reality I was trapped in, a reality I couldn’t escape, no matter how desperately I yearned to. My hands wouldn’t stop shaking. They trembled violently, an uncontrollable tremor that started deep within my core and rippled outwards, a physical manifestation of my inner turmoil. They trembled as I reached out to touch Eli’s fingers, cold and still beneath my touch. Too cold. An icy dread spread through my veins. I pressed my palm against his, willing warmth to return, willing life to surge back into him, a desperate, silent plea to a universe that seemed deaf to my prayers. But nothing happened. His fingers r

It's so fucking cold, and the iciness of the air sinks deeper into my skin with every shaky breath I take. I'm crouched behind an old caravan, Snowie is curled tight in her cot beside me—she keeps mewling, probably because of the tension and all. I can't even comfort her, I'm shaken myself, burning up with a fever, my stomach churning so much it feels like I want to puke.

“Something is wrong. I need…” I don't even know what I need. Air. Water. Something to make this stop. “Let's get you outside,” Adrian says, his arm tight around my waist. But outside doesn't help. The cool night air hits my overheated skin and I start to shake. I don't know if my body is freezing or burning. “Sit.” Adrian guides me to a bench, but sitting makes it worse. Everything makes it worse. My hands shake as I press them to my flushed cheeks. What's happening to me? This isn't normal. It's not alcohol or exhaustion, it's something else entirely.

It didn't work. Instead, my body began shaking uncontrollably. I couldn't seem to stop the tremors that wracked my muscles. Even if I did, they wouldn't stay still and I kept moving and bouncing off the walls until I was dizzy enough to fall over. That's when I stopped and just lay there, gasping for breath and staring up at the ceiling fan and wondering if any of it was real.

I force myself out of bed. My legs are shaking. My hands are shaking. Everything is shaking. I pull on clothes—something soft, something loose, because anything tight against my skin feels like fire—and make my way downstairs. Maybe if I act normal, everything will be normal. Maybe if I pretend I'm fine, the Heat will believe me.