Soil
I lay in a six foot deep rectangle. Soil surrounds all around me and the claustorphobia is already setting in. He breathes heavily as he catches his breathe. Sweat bears down his forehead collecting to his nose and chin. With a simple swipe the sweat is gone. He moves his hands on his hips, as if he is proud of the hole he dug. He takes a final breath and picks up the shovel and starts throwing dirt on my feet. With my hands tied behind my back and tape over my mouth, all I can do is watch my own death take place. He picks up more of the rough dirt and begins to cover my legs, waist and chest. Slowly he does it. As if he is savoring the moment. He places dirt over my entire body. It gets harder and harder to breathe. I close my eyes and mouth to prevent choking on the raw earth. But what's the point. I know I'm going to die. All I can hear the soil being tossed on me.โฆ
