Story time, and it's even a Halloween story.
When I was a youngster, maybe nine or ten years old, right around Halloween my older brother bought a record (yeah, remember those?) that contained various horror sound effects. Each track was accompanied by a little description on the liner trying to dramatize the effects.
One of the tracks was of someone who had been buried alive. The sound was a man supposedly scratching the inside of a coffin while breathing hard, weeping, and screaming.
I remember reading the little blurb while listening to this in my brother's room.
I was horrified. Absolutely horrified. My imagination ran wild, and the vision in my head was disturbing in the way only a very badly scared child can be disturbed.
I had trouble sleeping for a day or two, and whenever my brother would bring the record came out I made myself scarce, immediately. It absolutely petrified me, the very notion of being buried alive.
I got over it, but every now and then something will remind me of that, and the wisp of a memory will come back and remind me how I felt back then, being deathly afraid of being buried alive with no hope.
So, yeah, thanks for the word of the day, Cole. Harumph.