Yet another Drabble
This drabble is dedicated to MuggleMomma on occasion of her Birthday. Happy Birthday Trish.
The Coffin
It is pitch black inside and no way to tell what time it is.
The air is musty and stale and I always have the deep seated fear that if I breathe too deeply I might end up using all the oxygen within and then suffer a slow death by suffocation.
I can smell the paint on the wooden enclosure that surrounds me, smell the pungent odor of cleaning supplies. Once upon a time it used to make me horribly nauseous. But over the years I have got used to it. Had to get used to it.
Every night I lay within, waiting for the door to be unlocked so I can escape. I can’t help but be scared by the thought that someday the door might not be unlocked, that I’ll be stuck in here forever.
I usually feared this most when I was locked in here for a week or more as punishment. Time had no meaning in here. An hour could pass, a day could pass, and I would never be able to tell the difference. All I could do is stare into the darkness, waiting endlessly, hoping and praying for it to end.
A spider runs over my hand and I flick it away in annoyance. They had scared me once upon a time, the creepy crawly creatures with too many legs. The first time one had ran over me I had been petrified with fear and distaste. But it had happened again and again and again over the years… and I had got used to them.
Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. THUD
Bits of paint fall on my face and the flimsy wooden cupboard shakes and creaks threateningly as Dudley goes through his daily morning routine of walking noisily down the stairs and purposely jumping right on the landing in between, which was situated right over my head.
I thank the god’s yet again that the whole staircase didn’t collapse on top of me.
Click.
The door is unlatched and I hear my Aunt’s voice angrily yell “Wake up, boy. There’s loads of chores to be done. If you aren’t out in two minutes you’ll just have to go without breakfast.”
I thankfully crawl out of my coffin, thanking fate for letting me escape it once again.
~*~*~*~
The Coffin
It is pitch black inside and no way to tell what time it is.
The air is musty and stale and I always have the deep seated fear that if I breathe too deeply I might end up using all the oxygen within and then suffer a slow death by suffocation.
I can smell the paint on the wooden enclosure that surrounds me, smell the pungent odor of cleaning supplies. Once upon a time it used to make me horribly nauseous. But over the years I have got used to it. Had to get used to it.
Every night I lay within, waiting for the door to be unlocked so I can escape. I can’t help but be scared by the thought that someday the door might not be unlocked, that I’ll be stuck in here forever.
I usually feared this most when I was locked in here for a week or more as punishment. Time had no meaning in here. An hour could pass, a day could pass, and I would never be able to tell the difference. All I could do is stare into the darkness, waiting endlessly, hoping and praying for it to end.
A spider runs over my hand and I flick it away in annoyance. They had scared me once upon a time, the creepy crawly creatures with too many legs. The first time one had ran over me I had been petrified with fear and distaste. But it had happened again and again and again over the years… and I had got used to them.
Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. THUD
Bits of paint fall on my face and the flimsy wooden cupboard shakes and creaks threateningly as Dudley goes through his daily morning routine of walking noisily down the stairs and purposely jumping right on the landing in between, which was situated right over my head.
I thank the god’s yet again that the whole staircase didn’t collapse on top of me.
Click.
The door is unlatched and I hear my Aunt’s voice angrily yell “Wake up, boy. There’s loads of chores to be done. If you aren’t out in two minutes you’ll just have to go without breakfast.”
I thankfully crawl out of my coffin, thanking fate for letting me escape it once again.
~*~*~*~