Grave Dirt

I awakened with a start. I saw nothing but darkness but felt stronger than I had ever felt before. I lifted my hand and my nails scratched rough fabric. I heard a loud tear and went at it again, curiosity seeping through my veins. Wherever I was, I most certainly didn’t feel welcome.

My knuckles hit something hard and a pain shot through my arm, only to subside a moment later. I was after reaching something solid above my head and panic rose in my throat as I began to realize where I was. Suddenly frantic, I scrambled madly at the hard surface, biting my lip in concentration. With a shock, I felt two pointed teeth digging down into my flesh. I felt blood dribble down my chin and my body shuddered vigorously. My panic rose further as I made a deafening sound and started thumping frantically above me. My muscles felt like machines, incapable of fatigue.

Eventually, my hand broke through the solid lid that confined me and I felt cold air rushing in at my face and body. After a quick sigh of relief, my lanky fingers scrabbled wildly to dig at more dirt. I reached my arm up slowly and gradually pulled myself out of my prison, struggling onto the damp grass beside it. I took in my surroundings carefully.

I was in a graveyard. I had just climbed out of my grave.

I was dead.

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