Novelas y relatos de What Happens If You Swallow Bleach

Chapter 127 Amber Whyte. I tried to swallow it, but my throat fought back, pushing back all the content into my mouth. I quickly clasped my hand over my mouth to stop myself from throwing up. It was a narrow escape, but I was able to get the potion down my throat. I took my hand off my mouth as my breathing was heavy. I tossed the vial into the bin and went into the bathroom to rinse the remaining potion from my mouth, as it was triggering my gag reflex.

I didn't know if I'd be able to get it down without retching. "I mean, it's natural, right? It's our kryptonite. We're going to be averse to it. Maybe you can put it in a smoothie or something to help get it down. We didn't even have the option. They'd just whip us if we didn’t drink it or threw it up." Blake shrugged. "I still can't decide if swallowing that shit or getting whipped was worse. I never threw up, so I can't say for sure." "Fuck, bro. And you did this shit for four years?"

The urge to vomit overwhelmed me. I struggled to walk to the bathroom. My vision blurred. When I finally reached the bathroom, I collapsed in front of the toilet. Blood spilled from my mouth. My eyes widened. Frozen in shock. Throwing up blood could only mean one thing: The person is dying. And in my case, it meant I was dying. Panic set in. Fear gripped my heart. How could this be happening? Now, of all times.

“Powdered bleach. Gotta lighten your hair first so the pink sticks better. Otherwise, you’ll just end up with a muddy mess.” I blinked at him, still highly skeptical. “Bleach? As in, the stuff that could potentially melt my hair off my head?” “Exactly that,” he said cheerfully, dipping the brush into the bowl before flicking his gaze back to mine. “That’s why I’m doing it and not letting you fuck it up. Used wrong, this stuff can do a lot worse than just melt your hair—it can cause chemical burns, turn your scalp into a horror show. You might even go bald.”

But the second my bedroom door clicked shut, the act dropped entirely. I rushed straight into my bathroom, dropped to my knees in front of the toilet, and shoved two fingers to the back of my throat. I gagged violently. I forced myself to throw up until my stomach was completely empty, making absolutely sure that single, tiny drop of the herbal brew was gone. Gasping for air, I stood up on shaky legs and turned on the faucet, rinsing my mouth out with freezing cold water. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and stared at the full mug sitting on my bathroom counter.

It would all be gone as time goes on, but the damage would stay for a while. Alex knew that the undiluted bleach was something that had too much chlorine in it and that could be dangerous to the body. She was going to have to go to the hospital. She could still feel the burn and peppering sensation in her face and eyes. Soon, she started to feel the itchy sensation, with the urge to scratch her face. When Mrs. Teddy was done with wiping her face, she said. “Please get my bag, Mrs. Teddy. I need to call Dean to come to take me to the hospital. I need to see the doctor as soon as possible.”

Lucy whispered, her voice barely audible. "I... I was trying to move it," Zoe stammered, her words coming out in a rush. "I thought it was hanging too close to the heater, I was holding my wine, and I reached for the dress, but I tripped over my own heels. I grabbed the cleaning supplies on the shelf to steady myself, and the bleach cap wasn't on right... it just happened so fast, Lucy. I tried to wipe it off, but it made it worse." Lucy looked at the shelf Zoe was pointing to. The bleach had been tucked away in the back of the closet behind a stack of towels. It wasn't something someone would accidentally grab to steady themselves.

As I made to put the toothbrush back in my mouth, a load of vomit pushed itself out of my throat and splattered on the mirror opposite me. "Oh, for shit sake." I exclaimed. I stared at the vomit, some of it dripping down the mirror and onto the sink. I considered smashing my head against the wall for a brief moment, but knew I would not go through with it. I let out an exasperated sigh, and fetched a bowl and cloth from the kitchen. Making a soapy water mixture like I did the day before, I dampened the cloth, and wiped the vomit of the the mirror and sink, before rinsing it down with fresh water from the tap.

The many washes did not make my eyes any less red, but it made the tears stop and made my vision clear enough for me to see a bottle of bleach on the wood stand above the toilet seat. My hands trembled as I held the bottle in my hand, thinking over and over on the idea I had just conceived and the words I had said to Nana. ‘I get to choose how I die,’ I thought. If this did not kill me, at least it would kill the baby. I closed my eyes, opened my mouth wide and chugged down the bottle of bleach. The reaction took a few seconds, but I soon began to feel stings in my stomach. “Argh!” the pain increasingly got worse. I grabbed my stomach and staggered out of the bathroom, trying to get to the b