Growing up I never thought that all the stories and fairytales would be true. My mom always told me that the end is always the beginning, I never believed her until the night I snuck out and went to a party. I don’t really remember much but we went to a club and got wasted.
What I remember is taking shots, then this really hot dude asked me to dance. I obviously said yes, I don’t remember much after that.
The next day, well night, I woke up it was dark and I was in a very small space. I didn’t much room to move and it was getting hard to breath. As I moved around trying to feel for a way out I realized I was in a coffin. I used to play in them as a kid. I remember my mom telling me about when a coffin is buried there is a space just big enough for a human to lay flat underneath and coffins these days are built with a small trap door in the bottom, do to the fact that the new belief is that as long as you’re buried within 12 hours of your death then you’ll come back and live a new life, gifted to live forever among the mundanes.
I moved the small rug of cotton off the bottom of the coffin and felt around for the small cut indicating a trap door. Once I found it and successfully got out, I dug myself out.
I was starving.
