The Lungs: A Narrative Fiction

he opens a door. Inside, the room is cluttered, dark. On a queen-sized bed, under a window draped with lace curtains, his mother is asleep. He jumps squarely onto the bed next to her. He gives her a hug.

I am filled with a sense of peace. I am completely relaxed. I am soothed and comforted. I fall asleep easily and deeply. I wake up refreshed and ready for another

Dragging himself to a sitting position he drags his hands over his face and hair. Pushing himself to his feet he stumbles, making his way to the table. He reads the note, leaving it where it lays as he pulls a bottle out of his pack and staggers back to his bed.

I didn’t stop running; I kept this up for what felt like thirty seconds at least before the overwhelming urge to cough stopped me. I attempted to grip the side of the wall before I keeled over and violently choked up more blood. Shaking, I stretched my arms out around me, praying that I would find something in this seemingly empty room that could give me some kind of relief. Something that would take away that

I remember falling asleep, but I don’t remember being in a bed. I had fallen asleep in the hall due to my emotional state. My body didn’t need the sleep. My mind did. I’m actually happy I did. It got my mind off all my problems and sorrows for a good while. I sit up, pushing the unfamiliar blankets off my body. I’m in a strange hard bed in a foreign room. Everything around me feels new and alien. This isn’t my dull little prison. This room is slightly decorated with light brown walls and a dresser covered with random things.

"ME!" I fully came to consciousness with a scream and a realisation of the cold sweat that drowned my skin and the pain surging through my extremities. I loosed

Heitman sloshes back to the bank and climbs out. He squats next to the fish. It has stopped moving, its upturned eye brilliantly white against the dark ground. It arches its tail and lets it fall. Its gills open and close and its mouth flexes, the moon reflecting off the edges of its scales. Heitman picks it up and walks over to the

I stumble out the front of the class towards the trampoline. My heart starts beating faster. My vision blurs. I can’t breathe.

He didn’t want to leave his bathroom, hell, he was terrified in his own apartment, he walked back, leaning against the white wall of the small bathroom, he slid down against it, burying his face in his sweater sleeves and wondering exactly why he had to be tortured like this by his own mind.

He’s warm in this position. Being a man who generally has a low body temperature, he gets cold rather easily. It’s one of the few reasons why he wears so many layers of clothing. But now, underneath a blanket and curled against his significant other – to put it simply, he doesn’t want to move.

He had his head down resting on his crossed forearms, taking a nap. If you listen carefully, you might even hear his light snores.

He stumbles out his old, blue chair and runs. The thing roars. The choking, heart stopping roar echoes in Shi's sensitive ears. He hides in the bathroom. Shi waits with his breath held as The Sleeper walks to his door.

Horace gets up from the bed, leaving Jessica lazy who stares at the ceiling, and walks into the living room with a delirious in the hands.

“Yes, of course, I 'm listening.” Pins and needles prickle at my hands as the blood returns. I massage them together to ease the pain.

Finally a way out of here. Should take the right door or the left? I’ll go left. Hey, wait a minute, I hear someone behind me. I turn to see… I was back on the floor again. By now I’m gasping for air because some brainiac is covering my mouth and nose with a cloth filled with... I’m faint and my muffled cry for help is useless.