Last night, I dreamt of another life. This time, I saw through someone’s eyes whose hands were covered in paint and was dancing and singing to a song I had never heard before. An older woman entered the room with a tray in her hands. Her hair was bright ginger, and freckles dotted her face. Her name was mum to the person, and her chest seemed to overflow with joy at seeing her. Crows' feet started to show around her olive eyes, and her skin glowed in what looked like the afternoon sun. What it would feel like to feel the sun on my skin again…

It had been over 200 days since I had awoken in this tomb. A cold metal slab sat underneath me and arose around me with what felt like a drain hole, and above me were bricks that had sealed this place in. One of the first nights I had awoken, I had managed to push my hands against a loose brick and freed a space near my shoulder. This allowed for sunlight to come through and a slight hot breeze. My body, at this point, felt fragile and skeletal. I would say that I’ve died and gone to hell, but I could still feel my heartbeat, and when I’ve held my breath for long enough, my reflexes kick in to keep me alive. Maybe purgatory, then. The moon was my only friend at this point. While the sun burned me throughout the day, the moon gave me sweet relief. I felt less alone, and the cool nights allowed me to feel refreshed. I would try to sleep throughout the day so I didn’t feel the burn, and I would stretch my body at night, relieving any muscle aches and stiffness. The box gave me enough room to move my limbs left and right; nevertheless, I could barely bend my elbows in front of me. Multiple times, I had tried to push the bricks that lay on top of this makeshift coffin, and each time, more brick dust would come attacking my airways. My throat felt like sandpaper, and I had stopped shouting and screaming a long time ago. This was likely how I would meet my end, though you’d think it would have happened by now. Sadly, the world kept turning, and my body still kept living. Maybe I had gone mad, and this was all a dream. As the moon rose above me and started to cast light through the gap, I wished a little prayer again that tonight would be different and that I would be able to escape or someone to find me. I stretched my limbs in the small confide and scrapped another day into the brick below, near my right hand. The hole to make another day gets bigger with the passage of time, and the markings start to blend together to hopefully create another hole. Maybe then I can lift this thing. Time passes by like the current of the sea, and the moons seem to flicker with light like how the waves crash among the shore.

My god, how long had it been since I had tasted water? Felt salty air against my skin. Had I ever felt it before?

My memories are all hazy now. The time in this tomb seems to erode at my mind rather than my body or perhaps the lid that is trapping me inside. The will to fight seems to not be there, almost as if I’ve been put to rest before actually dying. I scratched absentmindedly at the hole that I’m slowly creating. Tracing the brick with my nail, a layer of dust slowly gets removed—like an onion, slowly peeling away…

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Around and around and around…

Again and again and again…

With each passing, the moon slowly drew higher, but the brick did not move, almost mocking me. I will never escape this; I will fade like the sun. My body will decay, and I will be awake for every second. The only peace I will feel is when I drift into another night of dreams, seeing different lives. To live as someone else for a couple of hours until the sun burns my flesh again and the stale air fills my dry lungs. Thankfully, no bugs have found their way here yet, and have started crawling and biting my skin.

Unless they have done it in my sleep and they have already done nerve damage.

The thought terrifies me to keep scratching longer, to go faster around the brick and push with every loop. The moon seems to illuminate through the hole fully now, letting me know it's midnight. As I move the brick again, it gives a slight tilt to the left. Grabbing the brick with my fingers now, I wiggle it. More brick dust coats my hand and arm, making me itch and want to cough. Again, I follow the loop, scratching away and pushing and wiggling the brick. The new cycle continues.

The brick wiggles more freely, and now I can get a full grip on it. I tried pulling it back with the room I do have, but there wasn’t enough space, so it was back to wiggling and scratching away. The brick slipped a little, and small cracks of light shone through the hole.

Almost there, a bit more.

Wiggling it harder, the tomb air started to fill with dust, filling my lungs. But I couldn’t stop when this was the first lot of progress made since the first brick. The rush of adrenaline flooding my veins. I needed to move, to escape, to break out. To be free. My lungs constricted with the air now filled with dust, every breath burned more, and my throat gagged for water. Pulling and pushing, the brick seemed to hold itself still, unwilling to move another sliver. A noise emitted from my throat, startling me. Taking breathe. I force myself to keep quiet. Pulling and pushing more, wiggling it with all of my might. The noise seemed to echo in the tomb as the brick scrapped against the side, and my heartbeat was getting louder with each passing moment. My arms were growing tired, and my brain was pulling me back into another sleep. The sun was beginning to rise, and the moon had disappeared. However, I couldn’t stop now, I refused to give into the sleep. I kept pulling and pushing until finally, a weight dropped onto my hand, crushing the fingers that now held onto the loose brick. A scream broke from my throat as I felt the pain rake through my system, sending my body into overdrive. With the last of my energy, I push the brick away from me, down towards my legs. A small heat filled my hand, aching and throbbing. The warmth seeped beneath me. My mind drifted into another sleep while I prayed that nobody found me now. Not when I was this close. I didn’t want to die. I thought back to the dream I had earlier and wished for comfort. For that love, the motherly love. I just wanted to be held right now. To be told everything will be ok. Instead, I’m trapped, alone, in this cold, dark tomb. Awaiting for the next moon to come and just maybe freedom.