taphephobia
[taf-uh-foh-bee-uh]
1. an abnormal fear of being buried alive.
***************************************************
Henry tried to keep his breathing in check with sheer
willpower. It wasn’t nearly enough. He knew he was safe, he really did. Unfortunately, his brain did not. His brain was convinced he was currently
several feet underground surrounded by thin plastic walls that could cave in at
any moment.
In
reality, the plastic case around him was several inches thick in most
places. The only place where it was thin
was at the top, and that was only so he could push it open easily. He wasn’t even buried very deeply. The box was buried just enough so that it was
hidden in the ground, with the top covered with a thin layer of dirt and
pebbles so that it was difficult to see from the outside. All he had to do was sit up, and he’d be
fine.
His
mind knew all that. His brain simply refused to believe it. His brain thought the pounds of dirt It
thought was there would come in at any moment and crush him. Or that he could suffocate from lack of
air. In fact, there were several places
that allowed air to flow, so he was in no danger of that. Nevertheless, he gulped down air like every
breath was his last.
The
fact that he was sweating like crazy wasn’t helping the situation either, since
it was starting to smell. The rubber
mask he wore only served to intensify the smell. He knew he should have insisted on a
different position as soon as he saw what his bosses wanted him to do. He knew it was a bad idea, but he needed the
money badly.
When
they hired him, they had only asked him if he had any problems with mall
spaces, which he didn’t. they hadn’t
even brought up the possibility of being in a box that was, technically, buried
in the ground, even if it was only by the loosest meaning of the word.
Suddenly,
a dim red light filled the box. He took
a series of deep breaths in an attempt to calm himself down, trying to tell his
body and brain that it was temporary, and that he would soon be able to leave
the confines of the box.
The
light turned yellow. Henry placed his
hands on the roof, ready to fling it open and do his job. He waited.
the yellow light persisted longer than he would have liked. He could imagine several reasons why that
could be, and did just that in an effort to take his mind off where he
was. It wasn’t as effective as he would
have liked, but at least his mind stopped outright panicking.
The
light turned green. Henry threw open the
“coffin” and quickly sat up. He growled
and clawed at the air threateningly. Two
small screams and one large, false scream.
The two small children ran to their mother, who did her best to usher
the youngsters along the path. One of
them started crying, and was promptly lifted off the ground by his mother. She turned just long enough to give him a
quick, sympathetic glance before moving on with her charges.
Henry
took a moment to breath. Now that even
part of his body was above the ground, his brain had calmed down immensely. It felt like he was finally able to take a
real breath. The cool October air
chilled him, but helped alleviate the sweat that had piled up on his clothes
and the inside of his mask. He relished
the feeling.
His
enjoyment of the open air was interrupted by the red light coming on
again. Henry groaned at the unwelcome
sight. Taking a few long, slow breaths
to prepare himself, he once again lowered himself back into the box and closed
the lid over him, waiting for the next group of people to walk by.
***********************************************
I wonder what haunted house workers think and do while they're waiting for people to walk by. It it kind of boring without a lot of passersby? I mean, they just have to kind of wait in dark areas or small boxes or coffins or some such until someone happens to come by. Do you think they can use their phones or something to pass the time?
Not what I thought would happen.
ReplyDelete