As he lies awake in his coffin, he tries to remember how it felt to be alive.
Properly alive. The sort of alive that was synonymous with being able to stretch his legs, wank off without bruising his knuckles and didn't involve lying (lying) in a coffin that seemed to be shrinking around him with every passing moment. He takes a breath, and moves his finger idly over the click wheel of his ipod.
His eyes have grown accustomed to the tiny screen that serves as his only light source. Yet he rather enjoys the darkness – it welcomes him, lulls him to sleep and he likes to pretend that if he can't see himself maybe he doesn't exist. He comforts himself with the thought that the existential bullshit is probably a result of the combined effects of oxygen and food deprivation.
He wonders what will happen when his ipod finally runs out of battery.
"Fuck. Fuck it. Bollocking twat fuck." The sound of his own voice sounds foreign to him. Rougher, hoarser – straining to make it's way out of his parched lips. He runs his tongue across his teeth and grimaces a little. He would appreciate mouth rinse in a time like this – though if he did manage to get his hands on some he would probably drink it all.
His entire body seems to fall asleep when he lies awake for hours at end – and he wishes he could fall asleep with it. The pins and needles are the worst; the pain starts small and spreads to every inch of his body and he wants to claw his way out of his coffin and burst out of the soil like one of those zombies from Sean of the Dead. It feels like insects crawling through his blood and making their homes amongst his veins, biting, crawling, staving. He considers trying to kill himself but figures it isn't worth the effort. He is already drifting in and out of consciousness, dying again and again. He stops counting the third time he suffocates and realizes that eventually he's going to spend more time dead than alive; he shuts his eyes and waits for complete darkness – wishing, begging, yearning for permanent deliverance.
But he's alive again – and more alone than he has ever been.
-fin
