Dear Grim

Reads: 278  | Likes: 0  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 1

More Details
Status: Finished  |  Genre: Thrillers  |  House: Booksie Classic
A girl talks to God while she's buried alive.

Submitted: August 09, 2013

A A A | A A A

Submitted: August 09, 2013

A A A

A A A


Day 1

Dear God,

It’s really dark and depressing in here, and I’m bolted into this thing. They’re trying to scare me or something. The wood on this thing is moldy as hell (how old is this coffin?), but never mind the stupid stuff because I can’t breathe and I can hear them throwing dirt back on top of the lid and I’m screaming and no one can hear me and why are they doing this? What the hell did I ever do to them?

 

Day 2

Dear God,

It’s been a day. I’ve managed to stop hyperventilating enough long enough to realize that I could probably punch myself out of here if need be. I’m only a small teenage girl, but I’ve got fists and adrenaline to back me up, yeah?

Dear God,

My fists are bloody, and it’s staining the wood above me, and I’m still stuck in here. They could have at least given me a flashlight or something. I can’t see a goddamn thing (excuse my use of your name in vain, but given the circumstances…). Lord, why was I the one buried alive? I haven’t done anything. I swear.

 

Day 3

Dear God,

I lied yesterday because I remembered what I did. I stabbed and killed a young man my age at the school dance last week. He had it coming, though, because he cheated on me with this complete whore. He had me, for goodness’ sake! I was willing to give him everything and anything! Now I’m stuck in this goddamn coffin (excuse my language), and I’m not sure I’ll ever get out of here. Maybe I’ll die in here. Crap, I’m not ready to die. Not at all. The stabbing was meant to be a bluff, nothing more. I didn’t really want to take his life. Now someone has taken mine.

 

Day 4

Dear God,

I heard people can survive up to one week without water. So far I’m not doing too well. My mouth is drier than that time I ate a huge piece of weed brownie and was tripping for hours later. Like a thousand cotton balls are just shoved down my throat and spilling from my mouth. Also, with my sweater on in here, I feel like I’m in my own personal sauna…from hell.

Dear God,

So I’ve been thinking a lot, since there’s nothing else to do except pound the top of the coffin (which does no good), and I thought about you and death and everything in between. I’ve come to the conclusion that you can’t be real if you let me be locked up like this. The question is, then, why am I still talking to you? Good point. Maybe you’re not God. You’re not benevolent. I’m buried alive, for goodness’ sake. I think you’re definitely something else.

Dear Grim,

Much better, Mr. Reaper, eh?

 

Day 5

Dear Grim,

I can’t think clearly anymore. Pound the wall. Dripping blood. Dried metal. Wiggle my toes. All that jazz. Lick my lips but there’s nothing to wet them with. I stopped crying long ago because I realized that I had no tears.

Dear Grim,

Is all—this—a—game to you? What the hell is—happening? Crap.

 

Day 6

Dear Grim,

Satan? Nah. No one gives a shit about you. Buried alive, and you don’t even know—the culprits. I think I hear my mom though… Mom! I’m down here! Call 911, the police, everyone! Let them know what they did to me! Let them know what they did to me for killing that boy!

 

Day 7

Dear Grim,

I’m sorry you have to collect such a pathetic soul for hell. Hades will be happy, won’t he? You know, I wish you were God, Mr. Reaper. I can’t pray to an undead, now can I? I guess I wanted to let you know that I know you have to take me. I’ve done a bad thing. A horrible, awful thing. I’ve taken someone’s life, and now I’m experiencing you taking mine.

Dear Grim,

I don’t like it one bit. I’m afraid of death. I had no right—don’t. Please.

Dear Grim,

I feel. Nothing. Anymore.

 

 

 

 

“Dear Grim” © 2013 Lyzzy Redd. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or in any means—by electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise—without prior permission. Email lyzzyredd@gmail.com with any concerns.

Recording coming soon.


© Copyright 2017 Lyzzy Redd. All rights reserved.

Add Your Comments:

Comments

avatar

Author
Reply

More Thrillers Short Stories

Booksie 2017-2018 Short Story Contest

Booksie Popular Content

Other Content by Lyzzy Redd

The Call of Nobody

Short Story / Flash Fiction

59th Place

Short Story / Other

Dear Grim

Short Story / Thrillers

Popular Tags