Under the Texas Earth

A story I hope to submit for my creative writing class about a character in discord with their surroundings.

Ria's brown eyes drifted open in a slow haze. They took in only fathomless darkness as she struggled to orient herself from the pull of sleep. Her mind trudged along to the pace of her body, slowly becoming aware of why it was so cruelly begged from its slumber. The humid warmth surrounding her was stifling. It reminded Ria of last summer when her mom's air conditioner went out in the middle of a Texas summer night. She awoke much the same, chiffon covers cast aside, red hair and mattress both soaked. This time, there were no designer covers by her side, only soaked hair and soaked padding underneath her small frame. Though her eyes could not see, she felt the sense of captivity. Ria was never particularly claustrophobic, yet she would never crawl through the tunnel the other kids built at recess. It was so small, she was always afraid that once inside, it would constrict her chest until it could no longer expand to draw in air. Testing her confines, she sucked air gingerly into her lungs. The air was hard won, but her chest was at full capacity. It was only as she released the air with relief, that she noticed the smell of wood and newness in her nose. Almost like the new hardware store in town. She continued to breathe, the humid air thick in her chest. Her sleepy head lolled to the side. As her eyes adjusted to the blackness, she noticed the small wall beside her. She let her head drop to the other side. Another wall. Ria's heart began to pound as her adrenaline saturated blood pushed the last remnants of sleep away. She sat up and her head struck something hard, forcing her back down. Her small hands went to her sides and she immediately recognized the feel of the soaked clothing clinging to her body. It was her homecoming dress. A dress of satin and black lace. She rolled to her side, pressing against her confines. They were padded with soft cloth. She hit the plush wall with her fist over and over, but to no avail. She turned and tried the other one, but the buttery fabric was covering confines as hard as stone. Ria screamed and kicked out. Her foot hit the bottom of her prison with a familiar clack. The heels on her feet were so familiar. She had worn them when she was much smaller and they were much bigger, stumbling around the house like one of her dad's newborn colts. Years later, mama would place them on Ria's bedroom floor the day of nana's funeral and Ria would walk in them like a true southern lady. The black heels were always mama's funeral shoes, and now they would be Ria's eternally.

 

As her screams deteriorated into soft sobs, she noticed the smell of earth mixed with wood. It was the comforting smell of her childhood on the ranch. As the last reserves of oxygen began to dissipate, a drowsy peace took its place. What a shame, Ria thought lazily, that most of the people who ended up in one of these never got to appreciate how comfortable they really were.