Thud

By M.A. Rys

Thud.

Thud.

Thud.

Anna woke slowly, blinking into consciousness. She was in a box of some kind, wood surrounding her on all sides. The last thing she remembered, she was lying in her bed at home, sick with an incurable illness. She remembered her mother kneeling next to her bed; her father standing in the doorway with their priest; herself praying not to die, promising anything, everything. It seems their prayers were answered.

Thud.

Thud.

Thud.

Anna clawed at the wood above her. She scraped and scratched, trying desperately to make a hole, but the wood was smooth and Anna’s nails were short and blunt. She clawed until her nails broke, until her fingers bled, until the blood dripped down into her eyes.

Thud.

Thud.

Thud.

Anna tried screaming. She tried kicking. She tried praying. None of it worked.

Thud.

Thud.

Thud.

Anna cried.

Thud.

Thud.

Thud.