Died in the Coffin My Parents Prepared for Me

The air in the coffin grew thin, making the sleeping pills kick in harder and leaving me groggy.

I weakly pushed against the lid, but the solid oak didn't give.

Mom looked worried. "Did you double-check with the guru? Are you sure this is safe?"

Dad dismissed her concerns with a wave. "I've covered everything. This guy's top-tier, almost impossible to book. It cost 200,000 dollars to get his advice. He guaranteed that if Sarah stays in there for a week, all of Emily's negative vibes will be cleansed. He'll guide Emily's spirit back to us on the seventh day. And Sarah? She won't just survive; she'll be better than ever."

Relieved, Mom clasped her hands as if praying. "Lord, please, my poor Emily must come back."

Dad reassured her with a pat on the back. "She will. Emily was too good-hearted. If it weren't for Sarah pushing her too far, she'd still be here. It's all Sarah's fault, that harbinger of doom."

Mom's frown deepened, her sigh heavy. "Sarah's always been self-centered. A week in that coffin might teach her a lesson."

I could hear their voices fade, leaving a numbness in my heart.

The crushing lack of air sparked a fierce survival instinct in me.

Desperately, I thrashed against the lid, blood smearing as I struck my head.

"She's still so strong even after those pills; I better get some nails to make sure it's shut tight."

Mom hurried over to hold down the lid. "Yes, quickly, before she breaks free. If she does, the guru's spell might fail, and we can't let that delay Emily's spirit."

Despite the thick wood between us, their cold words felt like knives stabbing into my heart.

My screams were heart-wrenching. "Mom, it hurts—I can't breathe. Please, save me..."

"Quit your drama, Sarah. Wasn't killing your sister enough? Now you want to disrupt her spirit too? We're asking for such a small thing, and you can't comply. How did I end up with such a cold-hearted daughter?"

Dad came back with nails, each hammer strike echoing like it was hitting my soul. "Sarah, you owe this to your sister. Just stay put, and in seven days, you'll have everything. No more Emily to compete with for our love."

My voice was barely a whisper amidst the despair.

Love? Did I ever really feel what it was like to be loved?

After securing the coffin with nails, they tapped it firmly, satisfied only when it felt solid.

My face was wet with tears mixed with blood.

Trapped in the pitch darkness, I couldn't tell if it was day or night. Time blurred as I lay there, my fingernails broken, scraping helplessly at the lid.

I had no energy left to scream. My fingers traced the wood one last time, then fell limply.