Buried alive!

January 3, 2022. No. 116

Dear reader: I hope that after reading this text you do not call me crazy or mentally ill. I assure you that the level of fantasy and imagination that is presented in this story is based on a completely true story. Reality and the unknown are mixed in an extraordinary way, merging at every moment, suggesting on some occasions that the things that are narrated below can only be taken from a dream, or in some cases, from a nightmare.

I've always liked tacky games. Difficult games to play and especially those that cause you some fear and chills, in which I enjoyed seeing people screaming or crying for a little terror that never hurts, trying to lose fear is the main thing in everything moment. I don't know why this last idea occurred to me, to be buried alive. When I described it to my friends they were petrified, perhaps each imagining their own reaction to being in that situation. The idea of ​​being in a box all that time seemed great to me, the time of the wake without being able to move a muscle and see all your loved ones on top of it crying. My friends said that I was crazy, that I couldn't do that to my family, they were a bit right about that, but when they told me that I wouldn't have the courage to do it, that's when the idea completely materialized in me. The only thing missing was to be able to do things as discreetly as possible, to avoid paperwork and the presence of forensic doctors, lest they put a blade on me while I was fully alive. Saying that it was a heart attack was the best idea and that my friends took me directly and in a surprise box to my house. The fact of living in the country in a seedy town in the middle of nowhere would make things easier for me. The blow would be hard on my mom, but to tell the truth she hasn't gained much of my trust or love over the years. So it would be then, it was already decided.

My friends got the box and drilled a little on the sides, to allow the passage of oxygen to it and thus avoid as much as possible fogging the glass of it with my slight breathing. I put on the most comfortable clothes I had from the waist down, on top of it a clean shirt like everything dead, of course. I took some water and some simple food to put next to my hands in the middle of the box. Also a flashlight and a small tape recorder to record while he was buried how everything looked being in that situation. This done, I went to bed without saying a word to her. They stared at me to see if I still wanted to continue that bad joke. Seeing no reply of regret from me, they closed the box. The darkness invaded her completely. They put the box on their shoulders and started walking with it towards my house.

I felt like everyone in the neighborhood was intrigued by the presence of a funeral box on the shoulders of my friends. When my mother saw the box on the door of my house, she almost fainted. She began to scream exorbitantly and to cry on top of it. The lid was on, so she couldn't see my face. I was with a smile on my lips, holding on to laugh louder since she could hear me, then I would not know if I would think if I was alive, or that I had risen, in case she thought the second, then I was afraid that the death of a heart attack was her. My friends took the box into the living room and started to open the lid, for which I was ready. I put on a serious face like never in my life. At that time it was when my mother did have a real attack, when she saw me with my colorful face, she said that I could not be dead and of course she was right, no matter how much dust she threw on me to hide the bright color of my face, always you see the touch of life. I never imagined that my mother would regret me so much. I will always thank her for that gesture of love, I even hesitated to get up right there and end that farce once and for all, but no, I preferred to continue later.

Immediately the room was filled with people. All those who come for the coffee at the wakes, those who come to see what are the most up-to-date gossip regarding my death, and others who simply come to look good with my mother, who was already a little calmer, but did not stop to cry. I was in the box for a day and I still hadn't moved a finger, I was completely immobile. My friends from time to time would approach the box and give small touches on it to identify themselves, then I had a happy time since I could open my eyes and rest the contraction of the face a little.

After a day, after my mother said goodbye to me with a kiss on the glass that separated us, my friends closed the lid completely and I was able to rest my face. In the cemetery after the due ceremony, they prepared to close the tombstone with cement. It was then that I began to light the box with the flashlight that I had in it and I was able to drink some water. The deal with my friends was that after one day of being buried they would go and take me out of the grave and I would appear before everyone, being the most popular boy of all time.

I've been buried for exactly one day. My two friends must be there to get me out. While I was down here I have been recording how everything happened on the tape recorder. As I'm doing right now. Wait, I feel something on the grave, it seems to be a small thud on it, I think you are my friends, at last. It was time. I'm here! Get me out of here. What's the matter? and that noise, it is quite similar to the police. What are they doing here at this hour? Oh no! WAIT! THEY ARE NOT DEFILING THE TOMB! I AM HERE! MY FRIENDS ARE NOT CRAZY! I AM ALIVE!

If you think this topic is a bit crazy, here is a video of someone who has actually tried it.

After reading all the comments where 99% think I actually did this, I feel compelled to clarify it here. This story is fictional. I would never do something like that ahah

Credits

100% original content

Video from MrBeast Youtube Channel