Buried Alive

Where am I? All that is visible is the downward grains of the wood in my coffin. I will surely suffocate if I don't do something quickly.

I scratched at the lid of this infernal box. My fingers, they bleed. Nails, painfully worn down, torn, broken from my fingers. My fingers are raw, I'm getting blood all over my self. They will gangrene soon, I hope I die before then.

I know not of how I am still alive. It has been hours. Or maybe just minutes. My fingers, still red and sore. I just noticed the bone protruding from my left index finger. What have I to do but scream and thrash.

Pus, oozing from my green fingers. This flesh eating infection will kill me before I starve or dehydrate. It has been weeks of me laying here. I managed to retrieve my pocket watch from my pants. I should be dead, I hope I will be soon.

Defecating has caused another infection. I have had nothing to eat since my premature burial. I will pray for hours, wishing for the release of death. The first maggot has made it's way through the coffin.

I have screamed for hours, the infections are painfully tearing me apart. As well as the maggots and flies. Surely, someone should hear my screams. It won't do any good, my body is beyond repair.

The gangrene has reached my wrists, my blood is infected. The flesh eating infection, has ate away at my rear, as well as my genitalia. Parts of me are goo, others are withered husks. Holes and cysts all over me, waiting to burst with maggots and other larvae. My cheeks have sunken in, my eye droops, my other has collapsed.

The rats digging in from above must have alerted the grave digger, Jonathan. I hear multiple spades, striking stones and cutting the earth. I hope they will kill me. Rats have burrowed into my decayed ribcage. It has been 7 months since burial. I should be dead...what force has perverted the circle of life.

It has been hours, I see light. My vocal cords have been ripped from me. My nose has been eaten away by infection. I can only see and writhe. The pry bar has entered the tight sides of my sarcophagus. I am scared, and elated. The lid comes up, three men stand and turn away. All they see is a decaying corpse. I am alive! Can't you see...my tiny movements? There isn't much to move anymore I am patches of flesh, goo and pus. The lid closes, and dirt hits my chamber. They see a corpse, but I am alive.