Confined

thump, thump, thump

My heart pounds in my chest and there's nothing I can do to stop it. I open my eyes and am greeted only by this darkness that has lasted forever. I lift my hands from my chest and slam my dirty fists on the lid of the coffin. Dirt rains down on me, coating my already grimy face.

Coffin. I was buried alive. By my own parents. It started as a joke, but I found out they wanted me gone. 6 feet under, in a wooden coffin, nothing but dirt and my own heartbeat. Screaming hadn't gotten me anywhere, just gifted me with a sore throat and a broken voice. I clutched the lighter in my hand, it was the only thing my mother slipped into my pocket before I was shoved into this nightmare. 

I flicked it open, the small flame illuminating the interior of the coffin. 

My breathing turns ragged, and I get goosebumps all over my skin. The flame starts to shrivel, and without giving it a second thought, I blow on it. The flame jumps from the lighter to the lid of the coffin. 

Oh god, oh god, oh god. My eyes widen and I start to shake as I realize what I just did. This is probably why my mother gave me the lighter, to begin with. She's hyperaware of my stupidity, my horrible clumsiness. Of my damned phobia of the dark. She knew I'd do this. 

"Stupid, stupid!" I whispered, beginning to pound my hands against the lid of the coffin again. I feel tears run down my face. The flame has spread, the entire lid is ablaze. I press my face against the floor, trying to stay away from the cursed heat. 

I continue to scream and pound on the lid, my hand burning with each impact. I look at my hand. It's raw and bloody, an ugly bruise starting to form where I hit the lid.

I start screaming again as the flame licks down the side of the coffin, burning the sleeves off my arms, and in seconds I feel the fire burning the soles of my shoes away. 

My screaming turns frantic as the flame spreads along the floor of the coffin. I feel the skin on my back burning. My arms are bloody, my feet are on fire, and my shoes have been turned ash. I try to feel my face, but my hands refuse to move. My hair starts burning, and soon my scalp is bloody. My clothes are all burned and my skin is gone. 

I keep screaming, my throat is raw, and my voice is scratchy. I feel the flame consuming my legs, the flesh, and muscle burning. Soon, my legs and arms are nothing but a pile of charred bones.

The flame caressed my cheek, melting flesh. My tears turn to steam and the fire leaps down my open mouth.

Next thing I know I'm dead. Because of a harmless Halloween prank.

word count: 500