Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-32764586-20170918110824

I've been working on a long story, but this is a side project

He sat upright in bed, bolting upright to a sitting position, covered in nervous sweat. He fumbled around for the light switch and turned the power on for a clearer view around him. He crawled his way out of bed and struggled to the kitchen, sleep still partially holding him in its gentle arms. The mans stomach growled a deep growl, a telltale sign to him that he must eat. He didn't want to, but he must.

He dug into the refrigerator and pulled out whatever he could find. He forced the pizza he had saved from a previous night down his throat. He needed more. He cut himself a slice of apple pie he had stored for later and feasted on it like a pig would. He needed more. He quickly grabbed another slice of pie, then another, and then another. He sprinted to the bathroom mirror and saw a mess. To his horror, crumbs were strewn all over his face. His plump cheeks were bathed in morsels of god knows what, and his obesity was shown through his stomach, which stretched out his shirt to lengths which almost ripped the seams of the fabric. He knew what he had to do.

He bent himself over the sink and shoved his finger far down his throat, as far back as he could. He pulled himself back and hesitated for a second when he gagged. He then forced his finger back to the end of his throat, his nail touching  it. He leaned over as the pressure rose up into his throat and he closed his eyes. He lurched out a sea of colors as thick chunky vomit gushed from his mouth into the sink below. A putrid smell filled the room as he coughed up more of his previous meal. A lump of vomit lodged itself into his throat just before he had  stopped. He held his neck and coughed, trying to dislodge it from his windpipe. He managed to cough it up into the sink before falling to the floor. Stains of what he had just vomited were everywhere. He just sat on the floor, panting.

He brought himself back up and looked into his reflection. He felt his legs buckle and he had to keep hold of the sink to keep himself up. He felt a sick sensation in his stomach and before he could react he began to violently cough. His body seized and shook. His stomach couldn't handle the situation and propelled another gush of substance for the man to throw up. He gasped as a slimy and slick liquid came from his mouth. He clenched his mouth shut and held the slick vomit in his mouth. But his grit was not enough, and as it piled up he finally released and let go. His body couldn't handle it, and he was now coughing up patches of blood. He writhed in pain as he looked upon the scene. He fell to the floor as his knees gave way. With all the strength he could muster he dragged himself up to his feet again. Tears welled in his eyes but he didn't have the strength to cry. He was too weak. Instead he only silently wept in self pity and defeat.

He knew it wouldn't be long until he did it again. 