Chapter 1

Opening my eyes slowly, I blinked a few times, wiggling my toes of my bare feet, so the blood can circulate better and out ease to its slight numbness. It dark and I- could breathe, It's like the oxygen, was being sucked from my lungs, this strange feeling took over me, Deja Vu, I felt like I have done this before. My eyes danced around the darkness as my hands searched around, for anything clues about where I was, it felt like I was laying down in a box. Tapping the sides that blocked me in lightly with my knuckles, the wooden rippled sound filled my ears, and I realized, I was laying in a box, a coffin. My heart began to heavily pound in my chest, I could feel it intensifying, I could hear it... But why am I hearing my heartbeat, and not just that I was hearing the gush of the blood flowing through my arteries. The short breaths I took, was to calm me down from panicking if I was buried alive I needed to find my way out because I have only five hours until I suffocate. Bracing my knees and the soul of my hands against the coffin's roof, I groaned as I pressed into it, and when that didn't work, I shifted as much as I could, twisting, until I ended up on my belly, pressing my back against the rigid top. But that didn't help, and how could it? I was buried, six feet under the soil, the worst possible scenario is who buried me here is a sicko, and they probably added cement on to keep me barred in.

Closing my eyes, I laid in the darkness, giving up, throwing in the towel. Even if I managed to get out of the coffin, how will I claw my way through the dirt, I would drown in mud before I make it out alive. Suddenly I heard something, a pounding, it sounded like another heartbeat, someone is here, someone is here to save me.

"Help!" I wailed, shaking the roof of the coffin vigorously,

"Somebody Help me!" I cried out again, but no one answered, how can they hear me? There is no way they could,

"Please," I whimpered, as the hot tears poured from the corner of my eyes, oozing down to my ears,

"Is someone out there?" I heard the distilled voice of a man inquiring,

"Yes-" my voice cracked, How did he hear me? Maybe I wasn't buried as far as I thought,

"Yes, I think someone buried me!"

"Oh my God, let me- let call the police,"

"No... Listen, there is no time. I have an hour if not less to live. I will be long dead before the police get here,"

"But I- I don't know what to do, I am just the cemetery caretaker..."

Cemetery? As in where the dead are laid to rest? Why am I here? buried in a graveyard, alive. The caretaker kept on babbling, revealing bits of information about himself I care not to know, what I need is to be free, or else this coffin will certainly serve its purpose.

"...And I don't-"

"What's your name?" I cut him off, "Tell your name,"

"It Maurice,"

"Ok, Maurice... I want you to talk to me, let my voice be your guide,"

"Alright," his voice trembled, he was scared, and I understood why, this is just as terrifying for him as it is for me.

"You have a girlfriend Maurice?"

"A wife actually, four kids and dog..."

I know I should be listening to him, but something weird was happening, as I tried to focus on helping him to find me, but his heartbeat was canceling out his voice and I could hear the pounding getting closer,

"Stop!"

"What's wrong did I do, or say something-"

"No... No, Maurice, you are doing great,"

His heartbeat was right above me.

"Ok Maurice this is what you're going to do for me, you are going to jump, repeatedly,"

"Jump? Why do I need to—"

"Just jump Maurice, we are running out of time,"

Hearing the heavy stomps, dirt trickled in my eyes, inciting me to blink rapidly,

"Good job," I coughed, "You wouldn't- happen to have a shovel with you, do you?"

"I do- it's around here, somewhere..."

"Alright, Maurice, mark the spot so you don't forget, I need you to dig me out,"

"Trust me, lady, Your grave is unique, it's not hard to miss,"

What did he mean?

"Can you please elaborate on that,"

"Whoever buried you out here was in a rush, there is no headstone." I hear his heartbeat become faint,

Why would need a headstone? I am not dead, someone is just playing a sick game with me.

"I got it," Maurice sounds almost out of breath

"Good, now you're going to start digging as fast you can," I struggled to breathe, my hour was coming to an end and I only have minutes,

Listening to metal clinging against tiny pebbles, I could hear things I shouldn't be able to, apart from the unsteady beats of Maurice's heart as he grew tired. I could hear every deep breath he took, and each time he wiped the sweat that formed on his forehead with the back of his hand, how do I know this? Is like my mind was in his mind, behind his eyes. Blinking slowly, my eyes began to closed, succumbing to its weariness.

"I am almost there, Miss, just hang in there," the shovel brushed against the casket's top,

"I am going to get you out, I promise."

Hearing lumps of dirt, falling off, I fought hard to keep breathing, even though my mouth was dry, I kept telling myself that I will live, and all I have to do is keep breathing,

"Shit," I heard Maurice mumbled, he sounded worried, something was wrong and I couldn't find the words to ask him what was it.

Repeatedly, the clings of mental clashed together, the coffin jerked a few times before it flew open. Bolting upright, I gasped for air, holding on to my chest as it rises and falls, filling my lungs with oxygen. I was right, I gazed below the box, it was shallow, which means, I wasn't buried far under, and who did this was indeed in a hurry. Little away from me, was Maurice, a big guy with curly dark hair, wearing a jersey top and jeans,

"How are you feeling?" He reached for my hand,

"I feel weak," I accepted his kind gesture, supporting him as he pulled me from the box, but my feet failed me, and I collapsed to the ground,

"I see, you're a vintage kinda girl," he lowered his eyes on me

"Leather was a thing back in the day. Grandfather still cherishes his jacket, well, what's left of it. I guess your grandmother knows how to preserve things,"

I could agree with him, but I did not understand what he is saying, so I said nothing

"I knew something was up," he added, stooping next to where I lay, stretching both of his legs forward. Sitting beside me, he pushed his slipping glasses back up his nose, continuing to stare at the coffin,

"What do you mean?"

"I thought I - dreamt it," he breathes out a cold fog, was he cold? Because I wasn't.

"Couple of nights ago I saw three men, here, in the cemetery," he spoke excitedly,

"I- I am sorry, I not following, what's wrong with three men at the cemetery? Isn't it a public place people come and go as they like to visit their loved ones, I gazed up at him,

"Yeah- half a century ago, before the cleansing,"

"Cleansing?"

"Yea, you don't know about the-" he paused,

"Aum- I am sorry, I don't believe I got your name?"

My name...

My name...

My name...

Naturally, when someone asks for your name, it's an automatic response that pops up in your head, even if you don't say it out loud, but here I am with two words chanting, in the back of my head, shouting in a unison,

"My name... I— I don't know... I don't know my name."