Waking Up With Bloodshot Eyes Novels & Stories

VIOLET Nothing happened as I expected — which is quite normal and doesn’t even surprise me anymore. I wake up when the rays of bright sun heat up my face, making me feel like I am being barbecued. I am in hell. My whole body is burning up, my eyes feel heavy just like my head. I try to open my eyes, but the dried blood is acting like glue and it’s nearly impossible to see anything. I lift my right hand and touch my cheek. It’s double the normal size which means it’s swollen.

The morning light was gray and weak. It crawled across the cold stone floor like a tired animal. I did not sleep. I did not close my eyes even for one minute. My eyelids felt heavy, like they were made of lead. My eyes felt dry and scratchy. But my brain was screaming at me to stay awake. It was telling me that if I closed my eyes, the world would move. If I blinked, the shadows would win.

It was blood! “What’s happening to me!” I scream. More blood begins pouring from my eyes. Then my nose bleeds. I run the tap and splash my face with water again but more blood appears. I have made it worse. “I’m bleeding from my eyes! This isn’t normal!” I cry. Then I collapse to the floor and black out. BANG, BANG! “Killian, can you open the door!” a voice shouts from outside the door. I wake up to the voice shouting from outside the door. I climb to my feet and look in the mirror. I look like a horror show.

Ares. I woke up with a start, breathing heavily from the nightmare I had. I rubbed my eyes, sitting up as I adjusted to the bright lights from the sun seeping through my windows and dark drapes. My eyes adjusted to the bright room and I sighed glancing briefly at my bedside clock. It was past six and I sighed, jumping out of bed as I walked into the bathroom. Staring at myself in the mirror, I had huge eye bags under my cold blue eyes and my face was pale with sweat covering my forehead, even my dark hair was wet.

She just shook it off and filed it away for later. Once they got home, they were all tired, smelly, and covered in blood. Jackie couldn’t wait for a shower. By the time she was out, the sun was coming up, and all she wanted was sleep. But rest didn’t come easily for Jackie. Her dreams were filled with blood, screams, and red eyes. She woke up with a scream, and as she was catching her breath, Luke burst into the room half-dressed, looking around frantically.

Since when have I wanted to make out with a guy for fun? You just hadn’t met the right guy, miss know-it-all provides. I groan and push off the door, going to the mirror. I almost scream when I take a look at my face. Blotched face complete with bloodshot red rimmed puffy eyes! I grimace. Have I been looking like this all along? I turn the tap on and splash my face immediately, trying to salvage even a smidgen of my appearance. Is there anything to be done for those bloodshot eyes?

18+ I woke up in the middle of the night with sweat covering my face. I sat up quickly and gulp down the glass of water on the table next to the bed. My head hurts. I keep having flash of images but none of them makes any sense. Shakily, I got up from bed and walk towards the bathroom to pee. After I was done, I looked at my reflection in the mirror. My eyes were bloodshot and my skin extremely pale. It also seems like I have lost tone of weight as my bones were sticking out.

SCARLETT My eyes open, and a low groan escapes my lips as I search for my phone. It’s a struggle to lift my heavy eyelids, and when I finally manage, I’m greeted by the sight of swollen, red eyes in the dim light. Sitting up, I realize my nose is congested, a clear aftermath of the relentless crying that seemed to have no end. The painkillers I took must have knocked me out, providing a temporary escape from the overwhelming emotions.

[The next morning] I woke up feeling extremely fatigued and exhausted. I grunted as I tried to stretch my arms and yawned. I sat up on the bed and I felt a sharp pain in my eyes as I tried to look around the room. I stood up from the bed and went straight to the mirror to check my eyes. I saw them swollen and quite reddish. It must be the cry last night. I thought to myself.

Not even the muscle that gave me life could remain loyal. Somehow, when the thuds and the bumps on the other side of the barrier between us had slowed, and then stopped altogether, I had been able to close my eyes. I hadn't slept worth a damn, and this morning, I felt as though I'd been the one strung out last night. And when I went to the bathroom, I realized I looked like it, as well. Mascara colored my washed-out cheeks. Bags large enough to carry mine and Jude's issues to a foreign country hung under my lashes. And the whites of my eyes had so many red lines crisscrossing in every direction, they could be mistaken for roadmaps.