Eyes are open, am I blind do my arms not work, far they cannot extend thump, thump what am I touching, in what am I encased what an odd sound, like rainfall but more menacing what is that sound I hear it above starting to feel afraid, a dream this must be air is growing thin, claustrophobia sets in my nails begin to claw at whatever this force field may be trapping me in my worst nightmare bloodied, sore to no avail the trap holds well hysteria next, screams, wails, laments please God let me wake up hours later, numb, deadened my empty eyes stare at the dark tomb acceptance sets in with the realization I've been buried alive
I am terrified of being buried alive. Dolan's Cadillac comes to mind. A short story by Stephen King.