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Charlene Abigail Salvatore always wondered what it would be like waking up buried alive.
Only, she had been in a long deep comatose the entire time of being buried alive, she hadn't even noticed. Until she woke up. . .
A shear gasp tore from her lungs as if for eons she had been mummified and her lungs congealed into a sticky-gooey gel that had enclosed all the tubes and vessels in her body. The air itself was practically nonexistent within the confined darkness she found herself staring at—and the heavy musk of dirt was potent in here. Shallow air pockets were all that she had to breathe what little oxygen she could gather, but that's not what had her panicking.
It was being in a tight space, buried under ground, six feet under.
She pounded on the wood of the coffin, greeted by flyaway dust and soil, some managing to creep into her mouth like sawdust. She choked and gasped, but she kept punching through the coffin inlay. Against her better judgment, she didn't really think the end goal through, you know, the waking up part.
The coffin finally relented against her pounding fists, and forced her way through the dirt that flooded into the inside. That gave her time to climb and heave her body upwards, practically clawing to tear through the soil.
The second she thrusted her hand through the final stretch of soil, she felt the crisp kiss of air on the other side, followed by her other hand. With every desire to breathe something other then the stale rocks and worms trying to crawl into her mouth, Charlie rammed her head straight past the soft bed of soil atop, a sharp inhale tearing out past her lips. She could feel the clean air once again. The stifling silence was replaced by the sound of crickets and rustling winds. And voices.
The ringing in her ears finally managed to die down—well actually it was dirt, but same thing.
Out of sheer exhaustion, Charlie turned over on the ground, facing upwards toward the sky. The sky! She hadn't seen it in what felt like forever, or should have felt forever. Except, it didn't feel like forever. It felt like just yesterday she had been in her bed, living the same day she always lived. The sky was the same, which meant the day must be the same. It couldn't have been that long.
The spell didn't work then.
Charlie almost laughed at the irony of everything, until she heard the voices again, followed by music she swore she didn't hear before. Music that sounded odd and unfamiliar. She craned her head up, narrowing her eyes against the darkness. She was surrounded by woods and no surprise, graves. She was in a cemetery, she must've been. Where else would a bunch of graves and stone plots be if not a cemetery?
