DOUBLE DEATH By: Adnane Rehane
Saturday, June 20th, 2009The chill of my coffin is drawing nigh; I feel it gaining my feet and soon spreading all over my body. I have been buried alive; not inadvertently rather on purpose. I don’t know how much time I’ve got before I die chocked, but this is of no importance to me. What concerns me most now is why I have been put to death. I swear I don’t know the reason for my premature burial. I don’t remember anything save that I suffer from frequents periods of amnesia. And now I’m dying for a reason unbeknownst to me. It is intolerable; if only I could remember then I could breathe my last peacefully.
I have to know, I have nothing to lose I am dead anyway. I will try to squeeze any snippets of information from my mind. I will try to concentrate as best as I could. Now I imagine my memory as a set of closed drawers; they need only to be set open. I concentrate more and more. I am approaching the first drawer and I pull it open; I delve into it, but I can’t plumb its depths. The vacuum is my sole finding.
I move to the second and then the third drawer and the same result awaits me. I concentrate more and more until rivulets of sweat commence to stream down my face. I am completely drenched in sweat and yet no crumb of hope, no shaft of memory light heaves into sight. So deep my discomfort is and so sullen are the prospects of my success that at this very moment, I feel it necessary to give it up. Soon the embrace of death will hold me tight; then won’t it be sheer folly to ponder over the reason of my being here? I burst into a fit of cackles to the idea of dying this way. I must have been a wicked man to deserve such unholy treatment.
The quantity of air enclosed in the coffin has begun to run short; at the edge of my end, my obstinate resistance has begun to wither away. It’s only a question of minutes before my unavoidable death. My sole regret is that I could have left a family that might be in a dire need of my presence. For may be they have nobody else to take care of them or even worse may be they are six feet under. In these last moments, I am assaulted by a swathe of terrible ideas that I try at my best to thrust aside. I want to die in peace. I struggle to clear my mind of anything and steadily I succeed. My limbs have gone numb; I am no more in the capacity of batting an eyelid; now it’s a matter of seconds before I quit this world.
Yet this world as cruel as it may seem granted me my last favor. The quilted obscurity yielded ground to let sudden blur images of my memory take shape. I have begun to see an open coffin in a basement and myself heading toward it; strangely enough, I lay down on the coffin and pulled it shut!!! How come I dug my own grave? Suddenly before my last breath of life departed my body it dawned on me that the coffin was my habitual bed simply because I am a vampire. Normally I shouldn’t die; I am already dead but so real my conviction of being human was that my whole being interacted with it body and soul and hence I am paying the ultimate price for the second time for good.
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©2009 Adnane Rehane
Adnane Rehane is a high school teacher of English in Morocco. His passion for writing short stories is second nature. Currently, he seeks to publish his pieces of work in e-zines.
