The Grave Digger

            His name was Joseph, Joseph Rah. He was tried and convicted of double homicide. No one thought that he was capable of murder, but the jury found him guilty. There I stood, close to midnight, digging his grave.

I remember, in the dead of the night, hearing something other than the rustle of leaves caused by small animals that made their home in the cemetery. I remember hearing something other than the chirping of the midnight crickets.  What I heard were footsteps. Soon I saw nothing but a blinding darkness; a darkness that overcame me swiftly.

When I came to, I was inside one of the wooden coffins you see at a funeral home, and I could hear dirt hitting it from above me. I realized at once that I was being buried alive. Upon this realization, I began to scream and claw at what I thought to be the top of the casket, only hoping that someone above would hear my cries for help. Suddenly, I was unable to hear the impact of the dirt against the coffin any longer, and I felt my prison being hoisted toward the surface.

The blinding light was more than I could bear as I looked out at the congregation standing there watching as I leaned out of the casket. Everyone looked surprised, and I thought I saw my own face looking on.

Before I could collect my thoughts, I was in handcuffs being led away from the precession. As I was being placed into a squad car, I noticed my reflection in the window. That image was none other than the image of Joseph Rah. No one thought he was capable of murder. Then again, no one thought I was capable of murder either.