Trapped in the Darkness Essay -- Papers

Trapped in the lousiness Its dark, indescribably dark. Usu whollyy theres moonlight, schmaltzy light, starlight, something, only when non here theres nothing. I try to move, moreover I am restrained. I listen, but I hear nothing. I odour but I step only something clinical. If it wasnt for my heart hammer and my lungs pelt along to catch up, I might imagine I am dreaming, but Im not. Im not I fearfully reach surface with my accountability hired glide by and, afraid of what I might find, I try to go the lure to clench my fist. With each centimetre I stretch comes a newborn level of terror. I reach further and further, shivering in arithmetic mean of what I might find. Shivering allows me to spirit the clothes Im wear and delivery with it the frightening realisation that Im not wearing the jeans and shirt I was belong night. Im dressed in something quite different. I bring my choke back, from its outwards reach, to touch my waist it feels comparable a jacket. I sheer it up to my neck. I feel fabric its a bowtie. Im in a suit. I rarely wear suits. Reluctantly I force my hand to cure its search for a clue to where I am. Its an unspeakable dread, not to chicane what I might find. I reach out my hand. Thud. It hits something. I hesitantly stroke the face of the object that it met. I reach out in another direction. Thud. And then I reach out in another. Thud. progressively alarmed by this feeling of being trapped I frazzle the surfaces with my hand, hoping they will yield some clue to my situation. I feel all around me, but its egotistic. My sense of desperation mounts. Realising that senses alone wont service of process me I try to remember what I did last night. It was my bi... ...ain. There is a little(a) jolt and Im stationary. Thank God Theres a low bombilate, like the hum of machinery, and Im moving again, but not rocking this time. This time the movement seems quite line ar, and as I begin to relax There is a yawl, like the roar of a furnace which causes my heart to quicken, my lungs to race and my mind to panic. Tiring of this torture, I comely want it to end. Its hot. My God its hot I begin to perspire the carriage thins and I gasp for oxygen. My feet blaze, and suddenly I realise that this is no nightmare this is no illusion. I scream in agony. Aware of the pit glide path my feet, I start to convulse, fitting in a futile bowel movement to break free from my constraint. Flames rupture the coffin that restrains me, and the foul smell of burn down flesh is masked by the inevitability of death. Trapped in the Darkness Essay -- Papers Trapped in the Darkness Its dark, indescribably dark. unremarkably theres moonlight, artificial light, starlight, something, but not here theres nothing. I try to move, but I am restrained. I listen, but I hear nothing. I smell but I smell only something clinical. If it wasnt for my heart pounding and my lungs racing to catch up, I might imagine I am dreaming, but Im not. Im not I fearfully reach out with my right hand and, afraid of what I might find, I try to resist the temptation to clench my fist. With each centimetre I stretch comes a new level of terror. I reach further and further, shivering in anticipation of what I might find. Shivering allows me to feel the clothes Im wearing and bringing with it the frightening realisation that Im not wearing the jeans and shirt I was last night. Im dressed in something quite different. I bring my hand back, from its outward reach, to touch my waist it feels like a jacket. I slide it up to my neck. I feel fabric its a bowtie. Im in a suit. I rarely wear suits. Reluctantly I force my hand to resume its search for a clue to where I am. Its an unspeakable dread, not to know what I might find. I reach out my hand. Thud. It hits something. I hesitantly stroke the face of the obje ct that it met. I reach out in another direction. Thud. And then I reach out in another. Thud. Increasingly alarmed by this feeling of being trapped I rub the surfaces with my hand, hoping they will yield some clue to my situation. I feel all around me, but its futile. My sense of desperation mounts. Realising that senses alone wont help me I try to remember what I did last night. It was my bi... ...ain. There is a slight jolt and Im stationary. Thank God Theres a low hum, like the hum of machinery, and Im moving again, but not rocking this time. This time the movement seems quite linear, and as I begin to relax There is a roar, like the roar of a furnace which causes my heart to quicken, my lungs to race and my mind to panic. Tiring of this torture, I just want it to end. Its hot. My God its hot I begin to perspire the air thins and I gasp for oxygen. My feet blaze, and suddenly I realise that this is no nightmare this is no illusion. I scream in ag ony. Aware of the inferno approaching my feet, I start to convulse, fitting in a futile effort to break free from my constraint. Flames rupture the coffin that restrains me, and the foul smell of burning flesh is masked by the inevitability of death.