My eyes won’t open. My mouth and throat feel dry. Every limb, every finger, every toe, my neck feels stiff and painful.

The air is still and stale. I feel myself lying on my back, my hands neatly folded over each other at my front. I wonder where I am.

A moment of inertia as I sense myself being slowly lowered, as on an elevator.

My descent comes to an abrupt jarring end, and my hands slip to my sides. My fingertips touch soft quilted satin. A wave of panic washes over me.

Above me comes the sound of sand or small pebbles scratching and bouncing across a hard surface. It echoes all around me.

Help me! I want to scream, but the words don’t escape my lips. Annabel, help me!

But the scratching and bouncing continues in a regular rhythm.

Annabel! Please! My love, I’m alive! Don’t let them do this to me!

The sound continues, but it becomes duller, more muffled, and more distant. Even the echoes have stopped.

And then I am left with only the silence and the darkness.

Annabel…