Human perception can be easily deceived. If there is blood running down your hands and you can’t see around you in the darkness can you say for sure that it’s blood running down instead of water? Or sweat? Can you say for sure that the blood running down your hands is red, without being able to see it’s color?
Pain, numbness, itchiness, hardness to breathe. Memories, cries, hopes, dreams. Friends, lovers, partners, parents, family. Wood, wetness, dirt, blood.
That was her universe now. And escaping it was harder than anyone could imagine. And her losing her hope, her drive, her desire to escape made it even harder. Still, calm, alone. She became what she never was. Her biggest fear – being aware of her own death – came true. It came true and turned her from a wild monster to a calm, unshaken tree. So she stood there. Still, calm, alone. She stood there and took in everything happening around her and inside her.
All of her senses were active. She could feel the pain from her hands, the sharp pain that was throbbing through her middle finger where she broke her nail. She felt the strange feeling of numbness in her legs. Moving them to shake it off was useless. So tried but she decided to stop and just try to live with the numbness. It was messing with her head. She wanted it gone, yet it was not possible. She could hear the creaking of the wood around her. Since she wasn’t moving the only explanation she could give was that the dirt on top of her coffin was pushing down against the ceiling, making those noises. She could also hear her breathing. Slow, paced, calm. In and out. Inspire and expire. Just like a Buddhist monk trying to focus. She could smell her own blood. She could smell the wet wood and the dirt. Her perfume and her sweat. She could also taste her own blood. There was some in her mouth and that distinctive taste of iron was making her aware of her broken lip. The only sense which was dulled was her sight. There was no light in there. Just darkness. She couldn’t see anything. Usually after a while your eyes adjust to the darkness but there’s nothing to adjust too if everything is pitch black.
Inside she could sense her soul and her heart slowly breaking. Fear was eating away everything that still kept her human. She could no longer discern facts from dreams. Imagination was running wild. She felt things. She knew things. She imagined things. She was lost in every single sense of the word.
Red lips, dark eyes, black pants, white shirt, black heels, dark hair. She was looking incredible, even more so than usual. When she got to the house she rang once and someone opened. She saw some familiar faces. People she got drunk and high with on occasions. And that’s why she was here again. Parties were the best place to drink and to get drugs for free. So she attended them often.
As soon as she entered she went and got a cup of beer. She decided to go outside and drink it on the porch. Some people were there and she knew one of them so she thought she could easily make some room into their circle and engage in some small talk.
Turns out she was right. She fit right in. And then the beers started flowing. And then tequila came into sight. After a while someone hinted that they had something stronger upstairs and she knew he was talking drugs. She also knew that she might have to sleep with the guy if she wanted any but that was just business as usual for her. She went along and right she was again. She drew a line, took it and then started making out with the random guy which gave her drugs. More booze and more lines. She started to lose herself after a while. She maybe even orgasmed as some point but that’s in a fog too thick to tell.
She passed out after she drank her twelfth or thirteen shot of tequila and numerous glasses of beer.
While being high and being drunk people usually do stupid things. Things they might regret later. Things that seem fun in that moment.
- Guys, what if we buried her alive, as a joke? Wouldn’t that be fun? Do you think she’ll get scared and cry? I’d love to see her cry.