Weighted

The pressing started in my head, in a place it seemed I shouldn’t be able to feel. The very center of my skull, the base of my brain. It was like someone put a weight on it and left it there, no explanation.

I felt it in my chest next. Somewhere in my lungs, or my heart, a constant pressure that never stopped. Then I felt it in my blood like thick cement pushing its way through my arteries, the weight of it pulling me toward the ground. But when I weighed myself the number was no different. Impossible.

I could feel it in every part of my body, taxing my system when I moved. Making me want to lay on the ground and never get up, slowly pushed into the earth through subterranean caves and enormous bodies of water. Past grinding crusts and molten slush.

And all the people above me, waiting to be pushed down themselves.