You’re probably going to want to read the first part, because…
After being thrown into the trunk of the car, my mind went blank for a while.
That’s the thing about anti-anxiety medications. You take your pill, and you can calm down enough to close the shades in your apartment. Your raging boyfriend slips a handful of ‘em into your juice, however, and you’ll end up semi-conscious in an unknown location.
Relatable, am I right?
I only have a couple flashes of memory of the next few hours, but I’ve tried to put the pieces together of what happened.
Feeling my body rolling uncomfortably back and forth. The stopping and starting motion of Lucas driving, throwing me around in the trunk.
Forcing open my heavy eyes for just a moment and seeing stunning oranges and pinks. A beautifully inopportune sunset in the distance as Lucas carried my limp form.
Then, the smell of earth. The sensation of being lowered. And just as the medication was starting to wear off, an odd buzzing noise I couldn’t place.
I came to with slow realizations. At first, a vague, intuitive anxiety that I couldn’t yet place. Then, a pulsing ache in my head. A sting in my parched throat as I inhaled. The uncomfortable sensation of lying on something rock hard.
It wasn’t until I opened my eyes that I realized I was in a living nightmare.
All around me were thick wooden walls. They spanned just to the edge of my shoulders, the tip of my toes and top of my head, leaving little room for movement. My face was mere inches from the cover.
I was in a casket.
The medication’s aftereffects delayed my reaction just enough to steal the impending scream of horror out of my throat, keeping me frozen in appalled terror.
This isn’t real. This can’t be real.
But deep in my gut, something told me this was nothing but reality. I had been drugged and locked in a box.
There was a horrible scraping noise and then a smack, as something shook my disturbing cell. My mind still foggy, it took me a moment to recognize what it was.
Lucas’ grunt of exertion. And then the sound of earth being shoveled on top of the wooden coffin.
He was going to bury me alive.
It was this thought that awakened my nervous system, sending me from vague anxiety into full fight or flight.
I let out a bloodcurdling scream that echoed through my torture chamber, sounding as though it was coming it me from all sides, pressing down on my eardrums and piercing the darkness of my cell.
“PLEASE, I CANT BREATHE!”
The shoveling stopped for a moment, and I heard Lucas’ familiar voice. It was colder than I had ever imagined it could be - my sunshine of a boyfriend was fully eclipsed.
“You made me do this. You could have just listened - but you’re just too selfish. Too weak. If you aren’t willing to be better, not even for me, after everything I did for you… then maybe you’ll have to face your fears the hard way.”
He continued shoveling, unbothered by my shrieks of terror. Loud pounds ensued, rocks and dirt falling heavy onto the casket I lay imprisoned by.
Claustrophobia took over my mind, holding no place for logic. My screams were constant, unending, my brain devoid of any thought besides total, primal panic. My entire body was numb, ears full of a high ringing noise. I felt the familiar frightened belief that the walls were pressing tight around me.
Except this time, they really were.
My vision began to tunnel and then widen over and over, my abdomen rising and falling rapidly. The terror made my brain want to shut down, surrender to unconsciousness, but some small instinct refused to let me have an escape from a life threatening situation. The racing of my heart, the sharp stabbing feeling in my chest - I knew from experience it had to be anxiety, but the intensity could have convinced me it was cardiac arrest.
I couldn’t breathe - was it my panic attack or a lack of air? After all, there was only a finite amount of oxygen in such a small space. Endless increments of time were passing. Seconds? Minutes? Years? In my delirious, reeling brain, there was no keeping track.
Panicking in my shaded living room seemed silly now - a space with endless air, room to move. What a luxury! How had that frightened me, compared to the hell I was held captive in now? A lifetime of being pointlessly afraid in safe places had led me straight to a death worse than I ever could have foreseen.
I felt a rush of sorrow for myself and all the things I’d missed out on by running from my phobia. There were so many ways that my life had been ruled by fear. And now my death, as well. I felt a tear drip down the side of my temple, dropping peacefully into my hair. I knew adrenaline could only go at full blast for so long - I was beginning to sink into a defeated exhaustion.
The shovelfuls of soil being piled on my casket weren’t loud crashing sounds anymore. Each dump sounded slightly more distant, like there was a thick layer of earth between myself and the rest of humanity. How much more dirt did Lucas have left to drown me in?
Slowly, afraid of triggering another wave of panic, I reached up a hand and touched the ceiling of the box. An intrusive memory of Lucas’ grounding exercise, four things you can feel, floated through my anxious mind. I ran my hand along the rough seams. As expected, they were solid and unyielding. My boyfriend was an engineer, after all. He could have been working on this since long before we ever met.
Maybe he’d even done this before.
An unexpectedly furious feeling of betrayal cut through my sorrow like a knife, sparking electricity into my numb body. I’d trusted him. I’d let him into my mind, my worst fears. And now, he would use them to murder me.
I could not let that happen.
“Lucas?” I tried hesitantly. With my nervous system no longer in control, speaking was agonizing - my vocal cords shredded from the previous screams. It was too quiet, there was no change in his shoveling.
“Lucas!” I shouted, wincing. It came out just loud enough that I hoped it would reach him.
The shoveling stopped for a moment. “What?”
He sounded like he’d responded on reflex. I could almost see those gorgeous blue eyes widening with surprise - after all, I’d stopped screaming, and I didn’t sound panicked anymore.
I deliberated for a moment. I’d only have one chance at this. I needed to say it right, or it was all over.
“Thank you. I needed this.”
Probably ten seconds of quiet. I lay still, waiting. Even through feet of soil, I could sense his confusion.
“What?” He repeated, sounding suspicious.
“I needed this. You were right, I needed to face my fears the hard way. I should have pushed myself more. Because I’m… I’m not afraid anymore.”
Another long silence.
“You did everything for me,” I continued. “You were enough to fix my phobia. Thank you, baby.”
I imagined his sharp intake of breath, mouth falling open with wonder at his own perceived success. And then there was a different noise. Like the shoveling from before, but without the heavy drop above me.
“I’m coming, Janie!”
Afraid to believe him, I stayed unmoving, staring in trepidation at the cover of the casket. I could hear the shovel, moving more quickly now, sinking into the dirt above me. It sounded louder, closer to me. With each scoop of earth, Lucas’ grunts of exertion became more clear.
Please let me get out of this. Please let me live.
I wasn’t sure if my pleas were for God, Lucas, or myself.
There was a loud buzz on the wood above me, removing thick screws, and I cringed at the noise. My heart was racing again, but with a new fear this time.
With a creak, I heard the lid of the box being pulled away. Suddenly, I was blinded by light, and covered my eyes.
Lucas moved his flashlight away from my face. “You’re really not afraid anymore?”
Blinking away the spots in my vision, I looked up at my boyfriend. Plastered on a dazzling smile. “You saved me.”
He grinned widely, teeth reflecting the flashlight’s glow. Lucas extended a hand and hauled me up onto the grass. It was nighttime now, and we were in a small clearing surrounded by trees. I glanced back down, towards the casket, trying to suppress my shiver. The box I’d been locked in was nestled into a deep hole, just big enough for a person.
Lucas pulled me in for a tight hug, and I tried not to flinch away. “I love you, Jane.”
Wrapping my reluctant arms around him, I murmured in a croaking voice, “I love you too, Lucas.”
He looked back at the dark hole. It looked empty and sinister. The homemade wooden casket at the bottom lay open, as if in waiting. Lucas sighed as though he was bored. “I should close this thing back up before we go home. I mean, it’s just off the highway, we don’t want anyone to see and be suspicious.”
He laughed smugly, his voice unfeeling, inhuman. An electric shock of rage pulsed through me again.
“We’ll go back to your place this time,” I promised.
Lucas squeezed my hand, beaming. And he leaned far into the earth to drill the box back together.
He didn’t even see the shovel aiming for the back of his head.
…
You know, it was a tight fit, seeing as the casket was made for someone smaller, but I think Lucas looked far better in it than I did. He really was an angelic looking man.
Or, maybe he still is one. I never did figure out how much oxygen there is in that small of a space.
But it’s weird. When I shoveled the last bit of dirt on top of the mound, faintly hearing desperate pleas from far below my feet, I was hit with a sudden realization. One that was made even clearer when I went home, pulled all the blinds down in my bedroom and peacefully crawled into bed. One that has stayed clearly in my mind, a whole year after the ordeal.
I realized I should be thanking my old boyfriend. I mean, even if it was the opposite of his plan, the way things went down seemed to be pretty good for me.
After all, I’m not so claustrophobic anymore.