trapped

I knew one thing: I now lay. I thought one thing: what, where, who, when, why, how. Lacking all memory and all sensory input, I had been transported into a void with nothing but my own thoughts. It was the scariest moment of my life - without my memory, it was the only moment of my life. I could do nothing but scream, and I was so confused that I didn't even know I was screaming. I tried to flail out, but found barriers on all sides. Instantly, claustrophobia swept over me, and although I could not see, I could visualize the walls around me, and feel the confinement. It only added to the madness of the moment. I knew that my only hope was to calm myself and think rationally. I ceased my frantic struggling and stared firmly into the dark emptiness before me, which I knew by touch represented a cold wooden barrier two inches above my nose. I found that I could not control the beating of my heart which became stronger and more frequent with each breath as my panic was revived. Rational thought was the worst thing that could happen to me, knowing without a doubt that I would die here in this eternity. A moan escaped my pursed lips as my body futilely tried to contort into a fetal position, blocked from motion by the presence of these walls which, if possible, had just become even more confining. I knew I was trapped but it seemed I should be allowed the small convenience of curling up into a ball. Carefully, I brought my hands up from my side until they were by my face pressed against the ceiling. I had thought this would be a more helpful position but I could now feel that it was not. Furiously I pushed and tried to beat at the wall, but I had not the distance to put any force behind my motion. The wood felt so solid and heavy that I could tell it wouldn't have made a difference how much leverage I had. So I began to feel for handholds, and found none, so I began to slowly scratch and claw and peel away fragments of wood. This continued for some time and the monotony drove sanity back into my mind. My fingers began to lose feeling and I did not realize that I was tearing them to shreds until the blood began pouring down my arms and dripping into my eyes. For once in my life I allowed the desperation to sweep over me. I forced tears into my eyes, feeling that they were necessary given my situation, which was more difficult than I thought because I had already mentally disconnected myself. I put down my arms and began to remember. I started with my earliest memory and tried to work my way forward, noting each point in my life, even the bad ones. There was no shame anymore. If people saw every moment flash before their eyes in death, this would be it for me, I hoped.