Waking Up With A Heavy Chest Novels & Stories

Vincent I sprang up from the bed, panting profusely as sweat dripped like rain down my forehead, neck, shoulders, my entire body. It happened again. I had what I suspected to be a nightmare yet again. The worst thing was, I don’t remember anything once I wake up. All I knew was that my experiences when I wake up include difficulty breathing at first, then profuse sweating, later gasps for air, tightness of the chest, and multiple dark holes in my mind’s eye.

The doors of the bathroom finally opened and he walked out in his night dress. Drying his hair, he glared at me through the glass door. I tugged myself into the quilt, avoiding his piercing gaze. I don't know if that was because of the tiredness of the day or because of the relaxation of being alone, I fell asleep in just a few minutes. The next day morning I felt it was hard to breathe, as if something was on my chest. Pressure or a burden. I slowly shifted in my bed and tried to settle down removing the burden from my chest but it wasn't that easy.

How could she be so careless? The thought sparked a burn in his chest, a subtle tightness that made each breath feel heavier. He cursed under his breath and pushed open his bedroom door, stepping inside. The air felt too thick. He crossed to the nightstand in three strides, snatched his inhaler, and pressed it to his lips. One deep, practiced breath, and the cool rush of medicine opened his lungs just enough to ease the pressure. He sat down on the edge of his bed, elbows on his knees, inhaler still in his hand, breathing slowly until the pounding in his chest steadied.

~CAKE~ I wake up to breathing. Wet, shallow breathing. It’s close. Too close. Like someone is lying beside me, fighting for air. That sound, that exact sound. The hollow wheeze from last night. The way his lungs kept trying. The way his body wouldn’t give up even when it should have. I sit up too fast, heart slamming into my ribs. No one is here. I glance at the clock by my bedside. 4:15 a.m

AVA I woke up to silence. My mind hadn’t been at rest since yesterday. My head feels really heavy, kind that lingers after something breaks. For a moment, I stayed still in bed, staring at the ceiling as everything from last night replayed in fragments…the truth I couldn’t know. I just sort of wished it was all a dream. My chest tightened slightly, but I forced myself to sit up. There was no time to fall apart. I got out of bed, went through the motions of getting ready, and chose something simple to wear. My reflection looked… composed, but I knew better than to trust that.

she said as she stood up and left the room. I didn't stay up much longer. few minutes after eating I fell into a deep sleep. I haven't slept for long when I felt it. Like a heavy weight was placed on me. It was crushing, and unbearable weighing on my chest. The air was suddenly heavy. I gasped and stumbled forward, opening my eyes as I fell. What I saw was different. It was as if the world had changed. I couldn't tell if it was a dream or reality but it felt real.

A dull ache bloomed beneath my ribs before creeping upward into my chest. I shifted slightly in my chair. "Mrs. Adams?" Marissa looked up. "You okay?” "I'm fine.” I reached for the glass of water on my desk, but halfway there my fingers trembled and the glass rattled softly against the table. Marissa frowned. “Are you sure you're okay ma'am?” I forced a smile. "I just need a minute." I took another breath and this one caught painfully halfway through. My lungs suddenly felt heavier, as though someone had wrapped a tight band around my chest.

Take the water that is in the dispenser. I just kept taking deep breaths over and over so that my chest that feels tight doesn't recur. Why? What is wrong with me? Today I experienced it twice. After that, I couldn't sleep again until morning. I opened the balcony door to let the cool morning air into the room. I started waiting for my clothes to grind in the washing machine while sipping the hot tea I had made for the third time. My cell phone ringing startled me from my thoughts. I don't know what I thought of like a daydream—too many.

June I wake up already tired. Not the kind of tired that comes from sore muscles or lack of sleep. This is different. It sits under my skin, hums in my chest, makes my thoughts sharper than they need to be. The room is quiet when I open my eyes. Pale light slips through the curtains. For a moment, I lie there and stare at the ceiling, trying to breathe through the tightness building inside me. It is too early for this. I swing my legs over the side of the bed and sit up. My pulse feels louder than usual. My fingers curl into the sheets, then release. I roll my shoulders, trying to shake it off.

*** She woke up at three in the morning and couldn't breathe. Not choking. Not a nightmare. Just.....pressure. Flat and heavy on her chest like something had put its hand over her heart and pressed down. She sat up. The room was dark. Damian asleep beside her, breathing slow and even. Everything normal. Everything exactly as it should be. But her hands were shaking. She pressed them flat against her thighs and breathed and tried to understand what had just happened. The pull was still there. The same thread she'd been feeling for three weeks. But it felt different now. Disturbed. Like something had found it and tugged it hard enough to wake her from a dead sleep.