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Coffin
#WritcoStoryPrompt40
The noise was too loud, almost as if someone was using a drill machine in his head. He craned his head to relieve the cramp in his neck. When he couldn't move he realised where he was; in a coffin deep in the confines of an aeroplane... panic rushed through his body and he started to thrash around as much as he could. The pain in his neck no longer a huge concern. In a few seconds, he had done nothing more than bang his head knees elbows hands and head. Aaron stilled and tried to shout over the din of engine and rushing air. Realising the futility of his actions he stopped and thought. What was the last thing he could remember? He was eating dinner on his own in a restaurant and people kept waving at him and being super nice his waiter gave him a huge discount and one man bumped into him on the street and wouldn't stop saying sorry. The meal was the last thing he remembered. Sitting in the restaurant in Havana. He couldn't slap himself in the face so he headbutted the coffin lid.
" Come on think."
Mentally he beat himself up obviously now this was a case of mistaken identity. So when he lands back in England he will be able to bang on the lid and shout people will hear and let him out. All there is for it now is to lay back and relax. He closed his eyes and concentrated on breathing or at least he tried to. It was feeling like he was breathing normally but he was feeling like the more he breathed the less air he was taking in. Dawning on him in the darkness on the box was the realisation that there wasn't enough air in the coffin. desperately he tried to slow his breathing and conserve his air as best he could. In and out in and out slow steady breaths without moving. Slowly with each breath, it was getting harder and harder to keep his eyes open.
A small cool draft was blowing on the side of his neck. slowly his eyes opened. To his right came a small pinprick of light. instantly he started to shout bang and scream. He was nearly defended by a loud pinging bag that sounded like a shovel hitting a wooden box. Coincidentally, that is what had happened.
"Shut up in there Esteban. Enjoy your last moment of sunlight."
" Write im, not Esteban."
"Yeah sure."
The next thing he heard was the sound of lose dirt hitting the coffin lid. Back in cuba, Esteban sat outside a coffee shop sipping on an espresso reading the newspaper when his mobile rang.
"Boss your safe you are now dead. your double is six feet under and the contract that was taken out on you is now classes as complete. I hope you enjoy your new life."
With a smug grin, Esteban hung up and continued to read his paper. One of the headlines read about a British man going missing the article had a photo of a man that looked exactly like Esteban.
The noise was too loud, almost as if someone was using a drill machine in his head. He craned his head to relieve the cramp in his neck. When he couldn't move he realised where he was; in a coffin deep in the confines of an aeroplane... panic rushed through his body and he started to thrash around as much as he could. The pain in his neck no longer a huge concern. In a few seconds, he had done nothing more than bang his head knees elbows hands and head. Aaron stilled and tried to shout over the din of engine and rushing air. Realising the futility of his actions he stopped and thought. What was the last thing he could remember? He was eating dinner on his own in a restaurant and people kept waving at him and being super nice his waiter gave him a huge discount and one man bumped into him on the street and wouldn't stop saying sorry. The meal was the last thing he remembered. Sitting in the restaurant in Havana. He couldn't slap himself in the face so he headbutted the coffin lid.
" Come on think."
Mentally he beat himself up obviously now this was a case of mistaken identity. So when he lands back in England he will be able to bang on the lid and shout people will hear and let him out. All there is for it now is to lay back and relax. He closed his eyes and concentrated on breathing or at least he tried to. It was feeling like he was breathing normally but he was feeling like the more he breathed the less air he was taking in. Dawning on him in the darkness on the box was the realisation that there wasn't enough air in the coffin. desperately he tried to slow his breathing and conserve his air as best he could. In and out in and out slow steady breaths without moving. Slowly with each breath, it was getting harder and harder to keep his eyes open.
A small cool draft was blowing on the side of his neck. slowly his eyes opened. To his right came a small pinprick of light. instantly he started to shout bang and scream. He was nearly defended by a loud pinging bag that sounded like a shovel hitting a wooden box. Coincidentally, that is what had happened.
"Shut up in there Esteban. Enjoy your last moment of sunlight."
" Write im, not Esteban."
"Yeah sure."
The next thing he heard was the sound of lose dirt hitting the coffin lid. Back in cuba, Esteban sat outside a coffee shop sipping on an espresso reading the newspaper when his mobile rang.
"Boss your safe you are now dead. your double is six feet under and the contract that was taken out on you is now classes as complete. I hope you enjoy your new life."
With a smug grin, Esteban hung up and continued to read his paper. One of the headlines read about a British man going missing the article had a photo of a man that looked exactly like Esteban.
