It’s dark. I open my eyes groggily. Why is it so dark? I try to put my arms out in front of me, but I can’t, there’s something in the way. I’m hungry, very hungry.

I can’t move much. I seem to be completely enclosed. I flex my muscles and push against whatever’s in front of me. It feels like wood. Solid and unyielding, and yet I feel strong. Really strong.

I punch at the wood. It cracks easily under the blow, and earth rushes in. It gets in my mouth, eyes, nose. Puzzled, but still too hungry to think, I punch at the wood, again and again. There’s nothing but earth above me, and I claw at it, forcing myself up into it.

I break the surface. Gravestones are all around me, the one in front of me bears my name. The hunger is unbearable.

Someone is weeping by the graveside. My mother. I’m so hungry I can’t focus. She sees me, but something is wrong. Mother tries to run. I catch her easily. I open my mouth to speak, but the hunger is too strong. One lingering bite and my mother gives me life for the second time.