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Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Dark · #2152304
We all answer for the decisions we make.
"It's just a box," he thought to himself, as he heard the hollow "whump" of dirt. It was black and cold inside. He pushed up with his feet, but the last two nails had been hammered in well. There was no give. He was sealed in tight. Another shovelful of dirt hit the box sending faint vibrations he could feel in the pit of his soul. The rhythmic cadence was soothing in a way and he was alone in his reflections. He thought back on the events earlier in the evening.

John had been at his usual hangout, watching the game on the big screen. She walked to his table carrying an extra beer. "You need another, and can I keep you company?" He looked over and saw her for the first time. She was just the right height, with a good build and very attractive. She would be fun, he thought to himself. He smiled to her and slipped his feet off the chair to his right and motioned for her to sit. The game was loud and he really couldn't hear her that well, but he smiled and did his best to impress her. He liked the way she hung on his every word and made him feel important.

"Fool" John thought to himself. He remembered the pitch. "Do you want to come back to my house? I have more beer there and I'm sure we can find something to do?" He was stunned. Surely this girl was out of his league. He looked at her again, she was smiling and wanting his company. He nodded yes and shakily got to his feet. She slid her hand in his and helped him stagger to her car.

She talked to him as she drove " I don't live far and we can get your car in the morning". John groggily nodded listening to her. She told him she lived alone on the outskirts of town. "I used to have a sister but she passed away suddenly two years ago." The car turned off the highway and started slowly up a dirt driveway. It pitched and lurched along the path and came to a stop a few hundred yards from the road. He could see a four wheeler gleaming in the headlights with a trailer attached. "Whaaa" he started to say when his car door was wrenched open suddenly. A strong hand gripped his shoulder and he was struck in the face. He slumped in his seat towards the driver side of the car.

When he awoke, he was laying on his stomach face down in the red clay of the road. His head hurt and was warm where he had been struck. He tried to move his hands, but they were held tight by a plastic tie that cut sharply into his skin when he tried to pull them apart. He heard her voice and another,and was roughly rolled over.

"Get up!" They raised him to a sitting position, and then helped him get his feet underneath him. He could see the trailer in the headlights. The metal was lit up by the lights and he could see a large box. The woman was in front of John again. "I forgot to mention, I also have a brother" She nodded to the man who gripped John's shoulder. He looked at the man, and then he knew. His legs threatened to buckle, but the man held him up.

He was half led, half dragged to the ramp and looked down. The box was a little over six feet and a little wider then he was. There was a lid next to it on the trailer as well as a hammer. He pushed against the man, willing himself not to go forward. He felt a shove from behind and fell face down once more. "Come on, almost there" he heard her say almost soothingly as he was lifted to his feet.

Before he knew it, he was face up in the box. The boards were hard and unyielding against his back. He looked up into their faces. There was no moon that night, but he could see her. She was young and very pretty he thought. He could see how much she looked like her sister now. "I didn't" he started to say as the lid slid into place. Stomp, stomp went the hammer as the lid was nailed tight.

The four wheeler started up and he felt himself begin to move. It didn't travel far, perhaps a hundred feet or so when it came to a stop. The box was slid off the trailer and roughly came to a stop. He was jarred inside as it fell the few feet and he cursed under his breath. He didn't call out, there was no point in calling out anymore. He pushed up with his feet and felt the ceiling unyielding. "It's just a box" he thought to himself.

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