Lizzy’s eyes opened to a darkness blacker than night for there was no moon nor stars nor planets shimmering in the sky for her to observe. There was, however, a hard slab of wood beneath her body and the wet scent of earth in her nostrils. She felt granules of dirt abrade her skin before a splinter of wood pricked her fingertip. Her hand startled at the sensation. Was that a tinny chirp she heard in the distance? After all, a rough piece of string chided her wrist, which seemed to tug at some unknowable outward weight.
She gathered a lungful of air about her chest and held it within until she could see pinpricks of gold bursting through the dark. Slowly, she allowed her breath to escape the confines of her nasal passages as she pondered escaping the confines of her own immediate obstruction. Lizzy rested her hand against her belly in contemplation. It was rather quiet here, she mused. Except for her lack of reading material and the stress of time on her oxygen reserves, her cosy surroundings offered a certain regard for meditation which Longbourn, regrettably, could not.
Should she return, indeed, a riot would ensue amongst her sisters, who last she remembered loitering about her bed, eyes awash with grief; her mother boisterously lamenting the foul weather, which surely struck her daughter’s reasonably good health and would by week’s end overwhelm them all. Lizzy imagined her father tucked behind the newspaper at his desk, offering only a mournful sigh in response. Poor man—
Alas, she swept her arm toward her heart and played a silent, resolved violin. Perhaps she’d be undead in time for supper.
Writer’s Notes
Earlier this month, I set myself the task of writing a piece of micro fiction. I’m more often than not drawn to writing poetry in the last few years, but I wanted to try my hand at something different this time. It’s not that writing fiction is completely foreign to me. I wrote quite a lot of fiction in my 20s, but have been out of practice since entering my 30s. I think the last piece of fiction I wrote was the first chapter to a novel I was workshopping a few summers ago. Maybe a novel is still in my future, but in the meantime, I simply wanted to have fun with something short but impactful.
The idea came to me after listening to Aaron Mahnke’s first Lore Alive episode release this month, titled “The Sleep.” In this story, a woman is laid to rest after slipping into a coma and presumably dying only for her physician and husband to learn weeks later that she may have been alive all along. Mahnke’s story ended gruesomely, but this led to me wondering what it might be like for someone to wake up, realize they’ve been buried alive, and actually feel relieved by the solitude. While this isn’t a realistic human reaction–I think most of us would quickly descend into panic mode–when thinking about what kind of person might possibly find their grave a quiet respite from the chaos of life the very first name that came to mind was Elizabeth Bennet of Pride & Prejudice.
The concept of tying a string to a supposedly deceased person in the event they should regain life after burial is actually more based in myth than truth from what I read during my research period. It wasn’t very common for someone to be buried this way and there’s little evidence people were saved by way of this invention. However, people enjoyed designing and patenting these contraptions as a kind of hobby should they suddenly fall ill and slip into a mysterious coma. Some of the “safety coffins” were very complex in design, but I thought for the Bennets they might spring for the most economical insurance policy for their second eldest daughter–a simple string tied at the wrist which connected to a bell above ground.
Ultimately, this is not a piece of fiction based in fact but in fun. I just wanted to write something that challenged my technique and flexed creativity muscles I hadn’t used in a long time. If you’re an Austen fan, please do not assume I intended to write this exactly in the voice of Elizabeth Bennet or the style of Jane Austen. This was simply a creative writing exercise that turned out much better than I anticipated so, in the spirit of Halloween, decided it was an appropriate opportunity to share, even if it’s not meant to be “serious.” At the end of the day, I did have a lot of fun writing this piece and actually hope to write more micro/flash fiction and short stories in the future.
Happy Halloween, everyone!
LMB.
Further Reading:
People Feared Being Buried Alive So Much They Invented These Special Safety Coffins
Buried Alive: Inside the 19th-Century Panic Over Premature Burial
Buried with Bells: Safety Coffins
Saved by the Bell – The Surprising History of Safety Coffins
