Jeff Mount

You!

You totally fucking blew it this time!

You were having a great time at the bar and You had to go blow your entire paycheck on Video Poker. It only took You a half hour to lose it all.

You feel so pathetic You decide You don’t deserve a ride home from your friends so You tell them that You are walking home and You leave the bar downtown and You head for your house which is about a 10 mile walk.

It’s late at night.

You head up Taylors Ferry Road and You are telling yourself what an idiot You are and You are kicking rocks. You glance at Rose Meadows Mortuary/ Cemetery up on your left and You decide that cutting through the cemetery would be a huge shortcut.

You walk straight up the driveway and climb over a short iron fence. The top of a pointy fence post catches You as You climb over and rips a hole in your khaki pants.

There is a layer of fog blanketing the rolling lawns of the cemetery and grave stones of all shapes and sizes rise from the mist and it makes You think of miniature skyscrapers like the ones downtown and You are reminded of the money you just lost. You feel sick and double over with disgust and You heave and gag and vomit by a tree. You don’t notice that You vomited on a grave site.

You compose yourself and stop leaning against the tree and You start walking across the cemetery again and You hope you’re going the right general direction and You walk through an area that has a lot of bushes and shrubs and You need to piss so You take your pants down and urinate and You don’t notice that You just pissed on a grave site.

You button your pants back up and You jump over a rhodadendren bush and walk down a slope towards a huge laurel hedge that You will have to somehow climb through in order to get out of the cemetary and back to the main road which will lead You home.

You hear some laughing and talking over to your right somewhere and You stop and look over there. By the moonlight You see two people with shovels digging and laughing and they stop and take drinks out of cans and You sneak a little closer and hide behind a large oak tree for a better look.

You determine that the two young men digging are trying to dig up a coffin so that they can search the corpse for valuables. You determine this because they stop digging and slap hands with each other and one says:

“Fuck yeah, hommie, we know this was a rich ass bitch so lets see what kinda goodies she has for us in there!”

You are no angel in this society but You are sickened by their plan so in your drunken state You decide that You need to intervene so You step out from behind the oak tree and You tell them to knock it off and get the fuck outta there or You will call the cops.

One of them immediately starts running towards You and lifts his shovel in the air and the other one jumps out of the hole in the ground and starts running towards You too. You turn around and run and You grab your cell phone out of your pocket and You dial 9 then You dial 1 and before You can dial the last 1 You feel a thud on the back of your head and everything goes black.

You hear cards shuffling and realize You are passed out in your cozy bed at home and your friends are partying and playing cards in the living room and You smile then the shuffling noise gets louder and You open your eyes and You realize You are not in your bed at home at all You were dreaming.

It’s completely dark and You feel things poking into You all over the right side of your body. The realization hits You like a cold ocean wave. You are in a coffin with a decomposed body and You are being buried alive. The shuffling cards noise was dirt being tossed down on the coffin. The shuffling sound becomes more and more muffled and You determine that there is quite a bit of dirt above You now.

You have been stuffed into the coffin and there is not much room to wiggle around with that skeleton next to You and panic and claustaphobia envelop You like a suffocating pillow and You can’t inhale very much air and You thrash around and You bump your head against the top of the coffin very hard. You put a hand on your head and You feel wet and sticky blood.

You push with every bit of strenth You can muster with your hands and feet and tears are streaming down your face and You notice that You are screaming. You feel the panel above You move ever so slightly and You give it another push with everything you’ve got. You push the panel up a bit more and You feel dirt falling all over You as You manage to lift and open the panel fully and climb out. You notice that the two men must have abandoned the re-filling of the hole because there is not that much dirt above the coffin. You thank god for whatever happened to cause them to leave and You let out a cry of joy at your freedom.

Your head is pounding so hard and it really hurts but You don’t care You run over towards the big laurel bush on the perimiter of the cemetary and You tear a path through it and You run down Terwilliger Boulevard towards your house.

You get home and tell your roommates your story and they don’t believe You they think You just tripped and fell and hurt your head and they all laugh and pretty soon You are laughing too. You play cards with them and some attractive ladies you’ve never met that your roommate Brian brought back from the bar are there too and one of them is giving you a neck rub as you lay down your royal flush and take everyone’s money. You drink expensive cognac and smoke some very skunky weed and retire to your bed with the neckrub girl and You have amazing sex with her and You pass out blissfully.

You wake up suddenly in the middle of the night and You open your eyes wide. Something’s not right. Your bed feels too hard. You reach over towards the girl and her arm feels too hard. You are still in the coffin. You realize You passed out when You bumped your head in there and You just dreamt You escaped. You cry out and try to push the top panel up and it doen’t budge. Tremors of reality wash all over You and You scream as loudly as You can until your throat hurts so bad you can’t scream anymore and You cry.

 

Todos los derechos pertenecen a su autor. Ha sido publicado en e-Stories.org a solicitud de Jeff Mount.
Publicado en e-Stories.org el 18.01.2009.

 
 

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