The Coffin
My dry eyes cracked open. It was so dark I couldn’t even see the tip of my nose. My hot breath bounced back at me from a not so distant wall. My whole body ached terribly. I started upwards when my forehead cracked against something hard. I fell onto my back, the pain rolling through me in waves. My arm met my forehead, rubbing the pain away. I felt around me. I was enclosed in something small. The room around me was minuscule at best. My hand drifted towards my pocket, retrieving my phone. I clicked the flashlight button. In an instant the horror around me came to life. Surrounding me, 4 wood walls. “No, oh no.” I silently cried. I dropped my phone and punched violently. My knuckles cracked against the dense wood, the sounds of the punches being deadened by the soil above it. After my knuckles began bleeding I slowly stopped. My mind raced. Where was I before this? What was I doing? How did I end up here? Panic began rising in my throat. My breathing quickened. I couldn’t think straight, all I could do was scream. I screamed, scratched, slammed, punched, I did everything I could do. My sore body eventually gave out on me. As I laid in the coffin my mind slowly began to work. I slid my hands around me, trying to feel for anything, anything at all. My fingers slid across smooth finished walls before they met a rough spot in the coffin. I craned my neck to see what it was. A small carving in the wood. “L Pckt.” My hand slipped into my left pocket. A small knife met my sweaty fingers. I flipped it open and pressed it into the lid. My eyes met another small carving at waist level. “Not first.” I began carving away at the lid, making a hole large enough for me to climb through. The wood chips rained down into my face. Small pieces of dirt slowly replaced the wood. I dropped the knife to my side and began punching. The wood cracked violently. I punched harder and harder. The wood broke free. Dirt flooded into the coffin. I pushed it down towards my feet. The flow of the soil began flooding in too quickly. I tried clawing my way up, but was trapped under the weight on my legs. The soil rained in covering my face and chest. As I breathed the soil flew into my mouth, then down my throat. I coughed, sending soil deeper into my lungs. I swung my arms trying to move the soil anywhere but on my face. My arms began slowing, breathing became harder. I let my arms fall into the soil, and closed my eyes as more soil flooded in.
My dry eyes cracked open. It was so dark I couldn’t even see the tip of my nose. My hot breath bounced back at me from a not so distant wall. My whole body ached terribly. I started upwards when my forehead cracked against something hard. I fell onto my back, the pain rolling through me in waves. My arm met my forehead, rubbing the pain away. I felt around me. I was enclosed in something small. The room around me was minuscule at best. My hand drifted towards my pocket, retrieving my phone. I clicked the flashlight button. In an instant the horror around me came to life. Surrounding me, 4 wood walls. “No, oh no.” I silently cried. The realization set in. I stuffed my panic down as I ran through my options. My eyes slid over to a small carving about waist level. “Not first.” A faint memory drifted into my mind, the feeling of being choked by dirt distant and tucked away somewhere in my brain. I scanned the walls of the coffin. There were carvings everywhere. The smooth finished walls of the coffin tainted by man. The carvings all had small 2 to 3 word phrases, don’t wait, “L pkct, not first, danger outside, climb fast, oxygen gone, 362, the man above.” Slowly memories flooded back to me like old dreams. Distance scenarios, Déjà vu like memories. I felt in my left pocket, my sweaty fingers meeting the pocket knife. I began carving at the lid of the coffin, eventually weakening it enough to break it. I shoved the dirt towards my feet loading up the bottom of the coffin. As the dirt pile began moving towards my waist I swung up into the dirt pile. I shuffled side to side while pushing more dirt down into the coffin. My head broke the surface of the dirt. I crawled out of the soil and rolled out onto the ground. I breathed deeply taking in the fresh air. My eyes opened after my orgasmic enjoyment of the air. Four white walls surrounded me. A bright, hospital-like, light shone down on me. A large metal door sat tucked in the corner of the room. I stood and walked towards it leaving the dirt hole I was birthed from. The handle fit coldly into my palm. I twisted it slowly, it spun gently. The door opened freely. I entered the small dark hallway. I examined every inch of what I could. The light from the room barely penetrated the hall. The only thing my sense picked up was a wet breathing coming from the other end. I strained my eyes. The outline of something stood at the other end. Its shoulders rose and fell with every wet breath it took. I slowly backed away. In an instant it began sprinting down the hall. I slammed the door shut and held the knob. The door violently slammed against me. Whatever was on the other side was much stronger. The knob twisted away from my hand as the door launched open, sending me flying back onto my face. My hands swiftly met the ground as I tried to push myself up. I rose to my knees afraid to turn around. The wet breathing was loud in my ear. I turned slightly to see a smiling mouth. I closed my eyes as I felt the hands slowly squeeze my shoulders, and kept them shut as the hot breath engulfed the top of my head. I kept them closed as the sharp teeth punctured my forehead. The blood trickled down my face, the breath drying out my eyes. The teeth tore away at me before I slipped away from consciousness.
My dry eyes cracked open. It was so dark I couldn’t even see the tip of my nose. My hot breath bounced back at me from a not so distant wall. My whole body ached terribly, but not as bad as my head. My head felt like it was being ripped in half. I rubbed my head lightly, each rub bringing back each second of being torn apart. My hand found my phone with ease. The flashlight lit up my coffin. A single carving stared back at me from the lid. “1,207 don’t open the door. Don’t let it eat your brain.”