Till Death Do Us Part

Six Feet Under

My eyes open and darkness surrounds me. I don't know where I am, I try to think... to think and think and think. Nothing, there's nothing to remember. I don't know how I got here. I don't even know my own god damn name.

I blink and blink again waiting for the darkness to lesson; for my eyes to adjust and see something, anything. My eyes slowly adjust in the darkness and I can make out what's in front of me – wood, I see wood. I lift my hand to touch it but before I can stretch my arm out in front of me my hand meets more of the hard surface.

I drag my fingers across the smooth dark wood until there almost over my face. I drag my fingers across to my left, following the slight slope of the material searching for its end. Down, down, down my fingers go, gliding across the cool surface until they meet the bottom where I lie.

I try to move my legs but there's no room to do so, I can't sit up I can barely move at all.

I push against top of this box or whatever I'm in. As the seconds pass I get more and more frantic with my moves. My breath is coming in short pants and panic is taking over. I don't know where I am. I don't know who I am. I don't know why I'm here.

My panicked thoughts take hold of me in a relentless grip. With fisted hands I bang on the top of my prison yelling; hoping that someone will hear me. My mind's going twenty miles an hour, so many thoughts flooding the already full stream in my head.

My thoughts slow when I'm struck with an idea, it may not be a good one or even a solution but it's something.

I roll onto my side, my hip presses against the top of the box barely just fitting in the tight space. I pull back my arm and fist my hand; with all the strength I can muster I throw my first into the side of the box. I barely register the pain as I throw my fist again and again.

I stop hitting the wood when it begins to splinter. I pull at it trying to break it so I can leave this awful place.

A small piece no bigger than my fingers breaks free and what follows that is something I wasn't suspecting, something I didn't even think of and something that strikes fear through me.

A small pile of cold damp dirt sits before my eyes. I'm in the ground, I've been buried alive.

My breath begins to quicken but before it develops to something more I slow my breathing trying to calm myself. I have to preserve the little air I have.

Is this going to be my end? I don't even know what I'll be losing. I don't know who I'll be leaving behind in this world.

I feel the tears begin to form then slowly roll down my cheeks. I want to go back to a life I can't remember. I don't want to die like this; in the ground six feet under, I'm not supposed to be here until after I die I'm not supposed to ever feel what it's like to be buried.

Something slides out of my jeans pocket and suddenly there's light – a small amount but still light. My heart stops at the sight of the object and then I'm filled with hope.

I reach for the phone and clutch it like a lifeline; well it is a lifeline, my only one.

The battery sits at 68% but I barely have any signal, just a sliver. I pray that that sliver is enough to get through to someone, anyone.

Upon pressing the home button a keypad pops up waiting for me to put in the password. I try and think of what it could be but I obviously come up empty handed. My fingers hover over the numbers and I try a different approach, instinct takes over and I let my fingers run wild on the numbers. I don't think and before I know it I'm looking at the home screen of the phone. It doesn't matter that I don't know the numbers only that I got in.

I'm unsure if I should call an emergency number or someone from my contacts. I decide on the later because I don't know anything and I need information, for all I know this could be a part of my job or something, I highly doubt it but you never know. This might be a stupid decision but it's the one I'm making.

I maneuver my way through the phone until the contact list is before me. I scroll through the names not recognising a single one. I decide to check my recent calls still unsure of who the best person to call is.

The last sixteen calls are all from a 'Carter', all of which have been missed. I decide he's my best bet.

I click the number and the dialling starts. By the second ring he's already answered.

"Gwen! Gwen is that you?! Where are you? Are you okay?" The voice asks with concern laced in his tone.

"Is this Carter?" I reply, furrowing my eyebrows not sure if I'm speaking to the person I think I am.

"Of course it is Gwen. Is everything alright?"

"I-I don't know," continuing I say, "Not really," My voice breaks at the end, I feel tears rising in my eyes again but I force them back.

"Where are you Gwen?" Carter says using a calm and concerned tone, under that I sense the pounding worry. 

"I don't know, I'm in a box or something... buried. I don't remember anything, I don't know who I am." The other end of the line is silent. I hear Carter's breathing and know he's still there.

"Are you hurt?"

"I don't think so. I don't know how long I can last though, I don't know how long I have till I suffocate in here."

"You need to stay calm, I'll figure something out. I'll do everything in my power to save you." His words give me hope. I need them to be right though; my life depends on it. 

He continues "I know you don't remember, but Gwen, I love you."

+++

Before long I'm left alone to my own thoughts in this dark cold box again. Time moves slowly; I can't get a sense if it's been twenty minutes or two hours. It's almost meaningless right now, right here. I don't know how long this oxygen will last for, I don't know if Carter will be able to find me in time, or even at all. It's so hard to have any hope. It lets you down again and again but still I grip it like I'm being dangled over an edge. And essentially I am; the edge of death, and it grows nearer by the second. 

A shrill sound cuts through my thoughts, my phone vibrates and Carters name pops up on the screen. I answer it within seconds hoping for some good news, for anything really. 

His voice answers on the other side as soon as I've accepted the call "Gwen? Are you still okay?"

"I'm as best as I can be,"

"Thank god," he exhales in relief and continues "I've been in contact with the police, their working on tracking your phone right now. Everything should be alright." I almost cry at his words, they can find me. They will find me. 

"You'll be out of th-" his cut off by someone in the background, I can just make out the words 'we've found her!'

"Did you hear that Gwen? We're coming to get you." His voice rises in octaves and I can hear his smile through it.

There's a pause then I hear a sharp inhale of breath, "Carter?"

"Carter was is it?"

"Gwen..." and just like that his voice deflates, fear filters back into my veins and my hope hangs from a noose preparing to fall. 

"You- You're in the middle of nowhere. We might not be able to make it in time." In that second my heart stops, my breathing hitches and my future is uncertain.