Will Byers Crying Novels & Stories

MY BUTTERFLY ****************** CALEB’S POV ****************** My heart is heavy and burdened as I watch the woman who has come to mean everything to me wither away before my eyes. I see her pains and how she tries so hard to hide them with a smile. Sometimes I want to break down and cry but for her, I try to be strong. However when she is not watching I go to a private place and cry. They say strong men do not cry but for Angela’s sake I agree to be a weakling for her sake I agree that I am not man enough.

"Mom! I'm here! Please help me! I can't breathe! "Mom! Aren't you a good swimmer? How can you just stand there and watch me die? I'm carrying your grandchild, for crying out loud! I regret jumping in. I'm so scared. Mom, please save me!" Sarah's desperate cries pierced the hearts of everyone around her. Her struggle was agonizing to watch. A crowd began to gather. Ignorant of the truth, they pointed at me, and their voices rose with outrage.

she pointed to herself, her body shaking from the sobs. Bryan didn’t understand what was going on. He tried to piece it together, but it wasn't fitting. Mrs Clampett, crying, not just before her son, but before her son’s friend also… something fascinating must have happened. He tried to ignore it but he couldn’t, slowly, he let his ego lose and walked up to his mum. “Well, stop crying” he managed to say, he sighed heavily and then sat beside her on the other chair. He held her hands “Mum, please stop crying”

Blakeley muttered and pulled Bryar into a hug. ********** AN HOUR LATER Blakeley sat in the hallway with Bryar in her arms, she ran her hands through her hair while Bryar played with her fingers. They were waiting for the doctor's report. Bryar suddenly looked up at her mother and noticed she looked away. “How are you okay with this?” Bryar asked and Blakeley looked at her. “I am not.” She replied softly. “How are you not crying? You don't even have an expression on your face.” “It's hard to cry.” She replied.

Not only had he lost his mother, but also his wife and unborn child. Her soft brown eyes began to glisten with unshed tears. “I’m sorry to hear that, Byan,” Kia murmured hoarsely. “You must’ve been so devastated.” “I’m okay now.” Byan kissed her forehead gently in gratitude. “Why do you always cry when I tell you my story, hmm?” he teased, half amused, half fond as he playfully pinched her nose. He remembered how she had sobbed herself to sleep in his car after he had shared the story of Alana and their unborn child.

She wipes my eyes, I realise my cheeks are slightly wet with tears. It feels like a lifetime ago since I cried. Since the dam broke, it has become easier but I don’t want to cry, I want to be strong for my girls. “Don’t cry, Daddy,” Bren says, Wyn supports with a nod. “Don’t be sad.” I hide my face in the crook of her neck, I can’t be sad with my girls around. I still have two of them. Alive and breathing without the aid of a machine. Vaguely registering Wyn’s arms on my neck, I stay like that for a while till I am certain my eyes will stop leaking. She taps me. “Is that why you did not go to work?”

I turned to leave, but Bryle grabbed my arm, and I couldn't help but look at him. "I'm sorry," he said softly. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't waste our time arguing. I just can't help getting annoyed because..." He seemed hesitant to continue. "I understand." Bryle pulled me in and gently kissed my forehead. "Stay here," he whispered. "I just need to get something." I didn't get a chance to ask what he was fetching as he immediately left. I sighed and was about to sit down when I heard a child crying. My curiosity got the better of me, and I walked in the direction of the crying until I finally tracked it down. A little kid was crying beside a tree, and I quickly approached and squatted down, "Hey,

She kept crying, she kept crying, her painful cry made everything in pain. Agonizing sobs rang out for a long time before she passed out from exhaustion. Crying was pouring down her smeared face, and she had puffy eye corners. When a five-year-old child witnesses his biological father murder his biological mother, he experiences a pain that few people can comprehend.

But I didn't want to upset him further. He shook his head, and his little hand reached up to gently brush the space between my eyebrows. "Mommy cried," he whimpered, his voice breaking as tears formed in his eyes. "Daddy's gonna cry too." He dissolved into sobs, and my heart ached at the sight of him, tears streaming down his face as he worried about me and his mother. I felt like my own heart would shatter as I watched the little boy cry.

He stood by the window with his back to us, his shoulders shaking very slightly, and I realised he was crying too, though he had tried to hide it. I climbed off the bed and crossed to him and put my arms around him. "Dad." "Whitney." "Thank you." "For what, my love?" "For wanting me. For taking me. For not putting me in the orphanage. For raising me like I was always yours." He could not respond. He just held me. Colby walked in a few minutes later, took one look at the three of us crying, and turned to walk right back out. He had always been uncomfortable with crying. It was one of the few weaknesses he possessed.