Eyes open. Let's try this again. Eyes open. Nothing. Blackness. Not good.
Smell. Something familiar about the fusty, damp, earthiness. Mushrooms? No, just mould. What does that remind me of? Earth? Yeah, yeah, that's it, soil, mud – the ground. That's what that smell is. The ground.
Reach above. Hard packed soil under short fingernails. Eyes water as tiny bits of earth dislodge.
Crap, crap, crap.
Stop breathing! No! Don't stop breathing! Crap! Oh shit! Stop right now!! Stop! Think…
Oh fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck…. Panting.. Stop breathing so much you idiot! Sam'll find you… Oh yeah! Of course he will – just in time …. Breathe. Stop panicking..
Claw at the earth above. Dig frantically – if I keep digging it'll be okay, I'll get out… I always get out. And Sammy is probably digging too.. yeah, Sammy is digging too. Just keep digging.
Fingers hurting. Nails seem to have gone. Come on, it can't be much longer. Sam's just the other side..
Can't breathe so well. Sam, come on, where are you?
Sam?
Mom?