Distant echoes of birdcalls. Waking up from her slumber, eyes still closed, her mind wondered trying to make out the indistinct, muffled tones.
”May be an owl, may be an eagle”
Slowly regaining her full faculty she shifted to relax her stiff joints. The jolts of pain that erupted made her vocal chords burst and her lungs collapse. The shrill screech of her parched tonsils travelled hopelessly, unable to find any escape through the 4 walls that surrounded her miserable fragile self.
Her chest, trying to suck in air to relieve the pain, forgets the stench that surrounds her. She involuntarily gags, as a mix of ammonia and hydrogen sulphide hammers into her frontal lobe. The hot humid air filled with the smells from her own urine and excrements suffocated her. Craning her neck she struggled to reach the crack in the wall, the imaginary fresh air that her mind needed. Breathing heavily through her mouth she quenched her thirst and calmed her thrashing heart.
As blood slowly crawled back into her numb legs, so did the million pins and needles prickling her skin. A tear trickled down her cheeks as she realized that she couldn’t distinguish between the nerves playing haywire and the legs of the insects crawling over her. She peered into the darkness to make some sense of the daunting feeling. But the darkness was whole. It consumed every nook and corner. All light had been sucked out. It made her feel as if she had lost her sight.
“May be the rats had eaten my eyes”
The thought dominated exhaustion and pain. As she moved her arm to confirm the worst of her fears, her broken fingernails from her miserable escape attempts brushed against her cheeks. She felt the clots of blood on her finger tips as she felt around her face. Relieved to find her face intact, she licked her sweaty hands trying to moisten her parched lips. She tasted the mold that was growing on her skin. She felt them spread, millions of spores, over her body. Feeding on her dying skin, sucking out the precious water she craved.
The air was growing denser. Her breathing shallower. The wooden planks that surrounded her seemed to move closer crushing her lungs. A strange feeling of peace came over her. She hoped no one would ever find her now. She hoped one would ever see her broken nails and the claw marks on the lid. At the least she prayed her family would be spared the grief of knowing that they had buried their only daughter alive. She listened carefully to make out any footsteps.
Distant echoes of birdcalls. Slipping into her slumber, eyes closed, her mind wondered trying to make out the indistinct, muffled tones.
”May be an owl, may be an eagle.”
REDA 