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"boy, how many times do I have to tell you?! get your ass outta here!" says a balding man, heavy built, with coal ash on his face so thick that it hadn't all come off in years. Most people here called him 'boss' or 'sir', though most of the older guys called him 'Paul', 'Pauly', or for the more brave-hearted, 'Paula'. Though I guess to me, I have to call him 'Dad' or 'father', at least for a few more hours.

"Dad, don't play dumb. You're understaffed from that cave in a few months ago. You need me. Just let me get the money to get my girl an honest to goodness ring, then I be out of here, and you won't need to worry about me." is my reply after looking him straight in the eye, forcing myself not to squint from the light on his helmet, which is a little bit brighter than most of the ones i've seen since coming back down here to work almost a month ago.

"i know I'm gonna regret this, but fine. How many more days is it gonna take you?" he asks, finally relenting after being on my case for a week.

"it's gonna take me at least another month. After that, I work odd jobs, if your so set on getting my ass outta here..." I say. Truthfully, I wouldn't trade this for the world. The smell, the noise, the hard work. I swear i've gained about thirty pounds, all muscle, since I started. It's really cut into football practice, but heck, I'm the best out there.

"i am." he says, looking at me with a mixture of emotions, the same as he always has: anger mixed with pride. Wait... there's a third emotion mixed in now. Sadness? no. that can't be. He hasn't been sad since grandpa got the cancer. But there it is, a slight watery look in his eyes, the only sign of what he's actually feeling inside. "i don't want you to make the same mistake I did, Rich. I came down here thinking I would be able to leave quick, but that never happened. I'm still down here, and I see the look in your eyes. When your my age, your gonna be here, the same position that I'm in right now." he says.

"Dad, I'm not gonna be here when I your age. I be somewhere else, living my life my way." I counter, smiling a little as I get ready to go back to work after the short lunch break I had. "I see you at home, pop. I've got a little work to do..." I say as I get in the elevator, making a small salute as it sends me down into the stifling-nearly unbearable- heat that is the center of the Earth...

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Ping! Step, swing. Ping! Step, swing. Ping! ah... finally getting into my rhythm, I start to shut my brain down, doing what just comes naturally to my body now, when I'm brought out of it by a yell in my ear, causing me to jump back a little, my pickaxe at the ready. Then groaning a little, I smile a little as a pudgy freckle filled face smiles back. "i could've killed you, idiot!"

"you kiddin'? I woulda floored you before you brought that up, Rickie..." he replies, going back to work quickly so we don't get in trouble.

Returning to the act of swinging my pick to get back into the rhythm, I start up the conversation. "so why are you here, Johnny? I thought you still had a year of school left."

"eh, I got home early. Couldn't keep away from the mines for long. Besides, Dad was one of the injured, remember?"

"oh yeah..." is all I can say about it (what are you supposed to say when your friend's dad gets sent into a coma from being nearly crushed by a 2-ton rock?), and looking around as I hear loud crack!, I quickly realize that something's wrong. Something's very wrong...
"Johnny... you hear that?" I start to say, but I'm cut off by another loud crack, followed by the sirens- both inside and outside my mind- screaming for me to run. "CAVE IN!!" is all I have time to yell before all of us sprint away from the noises, run like the devil's on our tails, his black sulfurous dust already coated our bodies, weighing us down. The cracks start getting louder and louder, coming closer and closer, about to swallow us all. Suddenly, an ear-shattering report comes from in front of us, and the blackness above our heads comes down, crushing us entirely. 'This seems like a dream, actually.' I think, trying to move my head and body, but unable to, the blackness all around me. 'it seems like any moment, I wake up, tell dad how crazy this dream is, and we'll all have a big laugh about it while we try to guzzle our morning coffee.' it helps to think like that, but have you ever had a dream where you feel an unbearable pain? I haven't, unless this is my worst nightmare... finally getting my head moved enough to look down, I'm surprised at the fact that I can't see anything past my waist. There's a light shining there, but I can't see it. oh... there's coal there. My brain sends messages to my arms, which try to move the rock, but to no avail. 'They're completely severed from my body.' I realize as I look at the blood gushing out of the hole where my shoulder used to be. 'well, at least I'm not feeling pain anymore...' I whisper groggily, letting the calm, soothing arms of the Lady Death come and sweep me away with a final kiss. Someone told me sleeping was a lot like dying, but that's not true. I think he's got it backward... dying's a lot like sleeping...