Stomach Growl Novels & Stories

My stomach didn't just growl; it staged a full-scale military coup at exactly three-fifteen in the morning. I lay in the center of the massive, silk-draped bed, staring up at the shadows dancing on the beamed ceiling. I tried to ignore it. I tried to tell my brain that the "nutrient-dense" grass juice Dominic had forced down my throat at breakfast should have been enough to sustain a small village. But my body wasn't listening to logic. It wanted something very specific, very urgent, and very, very wrong.

God, what I wouldn’t give to go back to it all. The thing that finally breaks me out of my stupor is my stomach, which gives a mighty growl at some point in the evening when I’ve been laying in the dark for what must be a few hours. I sit up, looking down at my complaining stomach, and feel a headache pulse at the back of my head. I groan, and put a hand there, wondering if it was Kent pressing me up against the door or Ivan feeding me tequila all day that’s responsible for this. Either way, I want water, and sustenance. Now.

My stomach growled loudly, so loud I actually froze a little. “What is wrong with me?” I muttered under my breath. Hungry. Again. And not just hungry—starving. The kind of hunger that makes your head warm and your chest ache. Was it stress? Was it fear? Was it— I cut the thought off. I wasn’t ready for it. Not now.

It throbbed. It’s as if a whole entire being within has awoken from a deep, death-like slumber, and my stomach coiled before a thunderous growl ripped through my very soul, startling everyone. Their faces, initially overwhelmed with joy and surprise, now paled in fear and utter disbelief. Another thing I have noticed, is that they seem to be staring wide-eyed with their heads swaying left and right, yet they are still looking right at me. That can’t be right. Unless…

Well, I skipped my lunch a few hours earlier. Suddenly at the thought of food, my stomach growls again, and the feeling is so annoying and fucking persistent but I keep pushing down the discomfort because I don't want to get up from here. I force myself to believe that pretending it doesn’t exist will make the growl disappear. I want to focus on settling my thoughts first instead of the call of hunger singing inside my stomach. This pack…… Releasing a deep sigh, I keep my eyes still fixed up at the ceiling above me. My chest feels like it is being pressed down with the weight of the constant reminder that I don't belong here.

Maybe throw in hunger and thirst with that too if you describe them with facial expression. I heard my stomach as it began to growl as if there’s a tiger living inside it. I brought myself to the kitchen and I was thinking of finding something eat. I only saw a box of pizza from the cheapest and nastiest pizza place in the city. I wasn’t really expecting anything which immediately came into fruition when I opened the box. There’s just a tiny long piece of crust left. “Shit! This life fucking sucks!” I whispered to myself gritting with mixed feelings of annoyance and rage.

I stopped cheering and shouting, gradually calming down my excitement, "I'm happy." "Now it's time to go eat lunch. Your stomach has started to growl." He said. I nodded expectantly.

I muttered under my breath, tossing the bag carelessly onto the floor. A second later, my stomach let out a loud, betraying growl, shattering every ounce of pride I had left. I stared down at myself in disbelief. "Seriously?" My stomach answered with another shameless growl. "Traitor," I muttered, crossing my arms and glaring at the bag on the floor. For nearly a full minute, neither of us moved. Then my stomach growled again, even louder, and I let out a defeated groan. "Fine."

It doubles me over, but my concern isn't for myself; it's for the baby. My diaphragm involuntarily expels grunts every few breaths, and nausea washes over me like I've never felt before. Strangely, amidst all the discomfort, I notice a tickle in the center of the pain. It feels as if a tiny fish is swimming around inside me. That tickle begins to grow, gradually pushing back the surrounding ache.

A sharp, stabbing pain hits me right in the stomach, and I freeze, waiting for it to go away. But it doesn’t, and the sharp pain turns into a deep cramp.