look up

Look up. Look up I say. My head is in the dirt. Look up. Worms are crawling in my ears through my head. Look up. Please look up. I’m in a field- maybe cotton or wheat. My head is full of worms. I want to look up. I’m trying. I’m drowning. The mud is caking my lungs, it’s holding me down.

Where are my arms? Were they ever beside me? Why am I here?

Lift your head. Look up. I can feel roots scraping through my nose and down my throat. They’re coated in mud.

Are they holding me here? Did I put them here?

My veins are ants, digging further into the ground I’m stuck in. Fire. They’re fire ants. They must be- it burns. Get me out of here. I’m stuck. I must be.

Why am I here?

I can’t feel my feet or my arms. I don’t know if I have any organs left. I’m hollow. I’m hollow.

Can I hear noises? Is someone standing above me?

I can almost feel their footprint. I’m down here. Come help me, I’m down here. My mouth is empty. No teeth and no tongue. I remember now, they rotted away. Dig down here, you’ll find me. No. Wait. Don’t grab the shovel from my hand. Stop asking where it came from.

Are you calling for your mom?

Don’t leave me here. Give me back the shovel.

How will I dig myself out? How will I bury myself?

I can’t look up. My neck is straining. I can’t look up.