"You'll like it. I promise." Tim beamed at me and gave my hand a reassuring squeeze. My heart fluttered.
The place was beautiful and serene. The spring had brought the flowers, and they bloomed in neatly trimmed patches in front of the house. Tim was right, I loved it. It instantly felt like home.
I sneezed.
A bit of dirt came through a tiny crack. I hadn't even noticed until I inhaled some of it. I was close. Shaking off my memories, I got back to work.
My arms ached from the repetitive small movements. A little more dirt trickled inside the box, landing on my belly. I laughed and sped up, moving my hands so fast that the tops of my fingers rubbed against the wood.
Splinters bit at my skin, but I didn't stop. I was too close now. I needed to get out.
A loud crack made me freeze. A rush of dirt spilled onto my stomach and chest. I could only watch helplessly as I lost my view of my legs. I hadn't thought it was possible, but somehow the box got darker. I could feel panic bubbling up inside of me and I had to focus on quashing it.
I moved one foot, then the other. They were both still there.
I inhaled, then exhaled. I could still breathe.
I had to keep working.
Adjusting my grip on the bottle cap, I began scraping again. I felt something crawling on my cheek, but I didn't do anything to stop it. The dirt was rising with my efforts and soon it would be covering the tube. When that happened, I'd only have a small window of time before I'd run out of air.
A second crack alerted me to what was coming. I tried to be prepared, but it was impossible. My heart slammed painfully against my chest as the dirt started to cover my face. I squeezed my eyes shut and pressed my lips together, turning my head to avoid it as much as possible. Within seconds, I was out of air.
I couldn't breathe.
