I could hear the loud bang of wood hitting wood muffling the cries of all the children. The footsteps of the huge men shuffled around my casket, never once letting a sound leave their mouths. Their pure devotion to silence is what terrified me the most. I can only assume they were loading us onto the wagons based on the sounds seeping into my enclosure, and that this method of transport was only a small appetizer of what was to come. Although the coffin was small, I was able to wiggle onto my side and receive some level of comfort in the fetal position. The darkness inside the box completely isolated me from the sunlight that rained down outside. I spent this time gliding my fingertips gently across the wooden walls to see if there was anything useful to me. The splinter in my finger assured me there wasn’t. Finally, the loud footsteps approached my coffin.

I felt myself being lifted off the ground. I began to tense up as my body started shifting around inside the casket. I knew the men were strong when I looked at them, but a single one of these beasts carried me like my mother carried bread from the oven. I was insignificant to them, and their strength seemed unattainable to me. I could feel him lift me higher and slam me onto what sounded like the back of the wagon. I could hear the sniffling of some of the other children that were next to me. Their sobbing surrounded me in a cacophony of terror. I was almost consumed myself until I felt a sudden thumping from underneath me. It turns out that I wasn’t set onto the floor of the wagon but onto another casket itself. Not long after I made that realization I felt another heavy coffin being placed on top of my own. The sides of my coffin were squeaking from the stress of the weight being placed upon it. I felt my breathing shorten and become more rapid. My heartbeat echoed like drums in a thunderstorm. I forced myself to calm down slowly inhaling what little air there was inside with me. Like I was swallowing the only companion that resided within my small prison.

After hearing the sounds of the remaining caskets being loaded, it was not long before the wagon itself started moving. I wondered what must be going through the minds of the other children. Maybe it was the impending doom of not knowing what the near future held, or even the mere thought of the current situation which was enough to make any kid's nightmares seem more dreamlike. The thing about being confined in such a dark space was the inability to assess how much time had passed. The ride was bumpy and the pace constant. I did not know when we’d arrive, but I did know better than to show up tired. I tried my best to relax myself in this hellish situation, until I drifted into a deep sleep.

I woke up to droplets hitting my face. I wondered if it had been raining and the droplets snuck their way into my tomb. Still half asleep, I wiped the droplet off my face and tried to bring some of the water into my parched mouth. The second it touched my tongue I realized what I thought was water… was anything but. Now fully awake, I raised my hand to my nose and inhaled what was the familiar household smell of urine. Whoever was in the casket above me had pissed themselves and I was the recipient of their rainstorm. I began gagging and tried to reposition myself to avoid the falling droplets, but the narrowness of the casket made it impossible. I had to wait till the storm passed, and it was forecast for quite a while. I would have been angry too if it hadn’t been for my own storm brewing.

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My bladder was inflated and my stomach was in agony from the pain of not using the restroom. I tried to hold out for as long as I could. It was a race between our destination and my ability to not damage my pride. The only problem was that I didn’t know when we would arrive, but I did know when my pride would leave me. I soiled myself, just as I imagined the kid above me had done. I had created a mess for my neighbor downstairs and defecated in my own residence. I couldn’t hold anything in at that moment, not even my own tears. The smell inside the coffin reminded me of my father after he came home from work. Which sadly to say was the only comfort I had. I wish I could say that it was the only time it happened too, but the journey was long and the line for the toilet was short.

Once again asleep in the foul smelling casket my energy was drained from me. I had no clue how long we had been on the road, but it had to have been multiple days. I was incredibly dehydrated and spit was a luxury my mouth could not provide. Suddenly, I felt the wagon accelerate. Bumps and turns now felt like earthquakes and whiplash. The caskets began shifting and creaking like a haunted forest in the cold night's wind. Then, like a sharp knife cutting through the noise, a crack. The casket below me seemed to have cascaded from all the weight that shifted from up above. Then the screaming started.

“GET OFF ME!” screamed the boy below.

I felt my casket begin to dip into the one below me. I tried to adjust myself to see if it would ease the tension, but it didn’t.

“I can’t…” The words were barely able to leave my lips as my casket continued to sink into him like he was quicksand.

“HELP ME! MOM! SOMEONE! PLEASE HELP ME! PLEASEEEE!” He pleaded for a savior to come to his aide, but no one came. His screams continued until his voice quieted and his breathing softened. Then, there was silence.

I sat in my casket sobbing. There was nothing I could do, but he was just as helpless as me. It could have very easily been me under that casket, dying under the weight of another. I would have continued sobbing all night too, but then the wagon stopped.