Lost is he who in the eyes of the devil finds himself rejoicing in the beauty of deception, the world invites deception...
madness is light that wants to hide in the dark, people can be lost or found in madness.
So it is not difficult to understand why premature burials sometimes happen.
people still remember the story of a Baltimore woman, not long ago. she went to her bed with a sudden illness, and died soon after. Or so her husband and her doctor thought. And then they buried her in the family vault. three years later, they opened the vault again for another coffin. When her husband pulled back the door, something fell noisily into his arms. It was her wife's skeleton, in her white burial clothes. Doctors thought that the woman 'came alive' again about two days after her burial. She fought wildly to get out of her coffin, they said, until it fell and broken open. She then used a piece of the broken coffin to hit the metal doors of the vault. but nobody heard her or her screams for help. Then perhaps she fainted, or even died of terror. Her burial dress caught on some metalwork, which stopped her falling. And so she stayed, standing dead at the door, for three years.
How often are people buried alive? perhaps more often than we know. Thing of the terror of it, the smell of the cold damp ground... the blackness of the night inside the narrow coffin... the long, long silence. there are many true stories about premature burials.
This is the one that happened to me!
For some years I had an illness called Catalepsy. People who have Catalepsy lie still and do not moves for hours, or even days. They are still warm, and there is still some color in their faces, but you have to listen hard to hear their heart or their breathing. sometimes they can stay like this for weeks or months. And then it is difficult to find life in them. When a Cataleptic fit started, I alway felt cold and ill, and then I fainted. After this, everything was black and silent. I always woke up very slowly, and I could never remember anything about the fit. I talked all the time about coffins and graves. day and night my thoughts were about premature burial. I was afraid of sleeping, and afraid of waking up in a grave. And when at last I did fall asleep, my dreams were about the terrors of death. I began to afraid to leave my house. I did not want to be away from people who knew about my Cataleptic fits. My friends I thought, will never bury me alive by mistake.
But then I began to worry about my friends... So I made many changes in my family vault. Usually the doors opened from outside; now I could open them from inside. I made holes for air and light to come in, and places for food and water near the coffin. I bought a new coffin that was warm and comfortable. The top of the coffin was like a door, and I could open it from inside. And on the ceiling of the vault i put a big bell, with a rope that came down to the coffin, and through a hole in the top, next to my hand. But I was still afraid... A I was right to be afraid. there it is standing in front of me, pushing me, to my fate when there is no other place to run for. The Devil abandoned me, looking at me and keep saying ''This will be the end''