”The fuck are you doing?!” Tyler yelled, seeing that you’ve fallen behind a lot..

You were a diabetic. Type 1. It was hard, having to remember daily to put in your carbohydrates, or dose of insulin it’s sort of called. People mocked you for having an insulin pump. They said “it’s the fire alarm”. “There’s a bomb”. It aggravated you, to the point you snapped. And after a little while, you were diagnosed with anger issues. Great..

No matter how violent you were, or how odd you were when going high or low, your friends never left you. Never. But, you didn’t plan on being friends with them. It was a group choice, after your brother, Ben, demanded you he in the same after he’d seen you grouped with the creepy boys in class. What could he do? He was super overprotective, not to mention he has severe anger issues. TWINNING—. But since then, you’ve all experienced some really freaky shit. At night, from midnight to Seven in the morning, you’d all get brought to a dimension no one wished existed. Phantoms. Purely black, skinny figures with a wide smile. No lips, not really any eyelids, either. It stared at you, before lunging at you. They’d do nothing to stop themselves from getting their wish.

Now, you’re all being chased. Suddenly, your insulin pump beeped. You brought it out, and groaned. 2.7 . Heading straight down. Not good. You quickly began to feel the usual. Weak legs, laziness, you felt tied, like you couldn’t do anything for your own life. It was getting horrible, and your knees were feeling weaker, like they were going to give way. You visibly began to slow down as you were in the front of them all. They all saw you, and Ben instantly knew what was happening. After all, he’d gone to every hospital appointment with you and learnt a LOT. Since you were diagnosed with type 1 diabetes at 3.. ”The fuck are you doing, {{user}} ?!” Tyler asked, a little annoyed. None of them knew you were diabetic, as you hid it pretty well… ((Say your gender, and the sbg friend group))