Chapter one: My Worst Nightmare

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I was dead.

I mean, at least I think I was.

That's what they tell me.

I guess if I'm not dead now, then I never really was in the first place. Because nobody comes back to life. That's just ridiculous.

I was legally dead for two days before I 'awoke'.

Two days.

My parents certainly didn't waste time putting me in the ground. They grieved for two whole weeks after my brother died. I'm surprised he didn't rot before the funeral.

So any way, I came "back to life" right? Well it almost didn't matter. I might've died again for real. Right as they were taking turns tossing handfuls o' dirt at my see-through casket. Yes, I know, I was buried like a modern-day Snow White. Because if my parents has to be proud of me for anything, it would be my apparent beauty.

Stupid right? That's definitely Not what I put in my will. but Mom and Dad thought it would be nice I guess. Of course burying me would defeat the purpose of such a pretentious gesture? But I guess you can't expect people in grief to understand why they do anything.

So anyway, as they were hurling fertilizer dust into my personal ditch of death-which now included me, because as I said, I was dead-(allegedly). That was when I opened my eyes and miraculously my heart started beating and I began to breathe. Or, I tried to breathe.

But I couldn't.

It was like waking up after a really long nap and not knowing where you are or what time it is.
It was disorienting, terrifying sometimes. But you could always sit up; you could look around, take deep breaths, and just calm down. I could do none of these things.

It was like I had forgotten how to breathe..Maybe I had? I didn't know what was happening, I just needed air. That's usually not a problem after waking up after a nap. Of all the things you might want after a long nap. A glass of milk, a peek at the clock, maybe a snack? That one thing that you never had to think about, that was always just there.

Air.

Kind of like toilet paper. You don't wanna have to think about it, you just want it to be there. And when it isn't, the the helplessness is crippling... Maybe I'm being dramatic. But this time it wasn't. I kept doing what instinct told me to do.

Breathe.

But with every oxygen-free inhalation, I became more panicked. More frantic. Breathe. Just breathe. BREATHE DAMNIT! What's wrong with you?!! That's when I tried to sit up.

Bad idea.

My forehead Thumped against something and my head flew back down onto a satin pillow Ow...Oh.
Now would be a good a time as any to mention that one of my worst fears, besides being buried alive and suffocation) is being trapped altogether.
Yeah, pretty bad luck, huh?

That's when I realized where I was.
And why it was getting darker.
I was inside a glass coffin.
BEING BURIED ALIVE.
Not this again.
I stopped panicking.

Yeah, okay sure.
I've had this dream plenty of times before.
If I just stop struggling I'll wake up once it's completely dark.
For a while! I handled it calmly.
Even though in real life this would scare the living hell out of me.
It's not real. I told my self. You're not actually suffocating. I assure. But the increasing
Pain in my forehead and the screaming of my lungs were telling a different story.
That and one other thing tipped me off.
I really needed to pee.

That set me to panicking again but this time I meant business.
I was no longer confused.
No longer convinced this nightmare was just that, a nightmare.
It was actually more likely that I was already dead and this was my eternal punishment.
And It was probably what I deserved.
But that didn't stop me from fighting it.

The casket, (now my perfect little one way express ticket to no-longer-living-town)
Became my new motivation to be an MMA fighter.
I was kicking and punching and screaming with stiff limbs and wheezing lungs
And just about every ounce of fight I had left.
Because this was not how I was going to die.
I was NOT going to go down six feet under before it was time,
only to give up because that's where I was headed anyway.
NO.

It was getting darker.
I still could not breathe.
I was getting weaker.
I still very much needed to pee.

I continued to silent scream and kick,
hoping no one would think it was an exorcism and run away in fear.
I remember thinking, Surely someone would have noticed this by now?
Well they did, I just hadn't noticed yet that the smattering rain of dirt
that was my death sentence had, For the time being, ceased.

Fin
Short I know but if I continue this story, my chapters will be longer.
Thank you for reading!

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