“Ahhh!” screamed Collin. He was on his stomach, in the pitch black, surrounded by dirt. Collin had been digging for two days tunneling in his backyard. The tunnel was almost five feet underground and his parents had left to go to dinner only fifteen minutes ago. He was forced down with such intensity that it was as if there were cars piled high on top of him. He dug for five minutes to get to his right side pocket, but it was a struggle. There was no place to push the dirt ,but he managed to get to his pocket. He then pulled out a small flashlight that his dad had given him years before.

“Come on ... please,” Collin screamed. He had never been so terrified in his life. He fumbled around the flashlight base to find the light switch. He was now losing air and starting to gasp. At last! The small light flickered on, but there was nothing to see. Just dirt and the occasional root. Tears had formed a muddy waterfall down his face.

“What will happen to me? I never even told them about the tunnel! I'm going to die down here!” screamed Collin. Dirt filled his mouth once again. There was only one thing he could do ... DIG. Just before he was about to paw at the soil around him, he grabbed his voice recorder, which was always around his neck. He placed his finger on the record button.

“My name is Collin and about ten minutes ago, my tunnel that I had been digging collapsed on me. If anybody ever finds this, PLEASE tell my parents that I love them.” His heart was pounding as he strapped the recorder back to his neck. He clawed the dirt with no success. Collin was now desperate for air. Every time he opened his mouth, dirt filled it. He knew he was about to die. He took his last deep sigh, curled up, and then simply died.

50 Years Later . . .

Where the small suburban house once stood were large wooden frames that awaited walls and a new lawn. The lawn had been shaped up by numerous work trucks around the premises. A 2028 Chevy Tahoe pulled into a makeshift gravel driveway. A family of three stepped out of the car, amazed at the progress of the new house. Michael Johnson, the father of the family, led the way to the back where he showed off the new improvements.

“There will be a basement expansion as well,” said Michael, as one of the small dump trucks rolled up the wood ramp. “Jack and Mark, you boys can run around, but do not break anything that I will need to pay for.” Jack, who was thirteen, nodded at Mark, who was nine. As the boys ran off, Michael walked over to the new building site.

“How is it going?” questioned Michael.

A worker replied, ”Well, we have been making some progress but it looks like it will be another month.”

Michael sighed but wasn’t disappointed. He was just walking away when he heard the yell of a worker. “Sir, Sir! I found something when I was digging! It, it looks like a mummy!” Michael ran over and found the boss already there. As they got to the edge of the trench, they saw the terrified worker pointing at a small, curled up skeleton covered in tattered, brown clothing. The three of them jumped down into the trench. They approached the dead carcass with caution and anxiety.

“Oh God, we need someone to call the authorities,” said Michael. The worker poked a stick into the surrounding earth and found a small, silver object in the ground.

“Hey, what is that,” questioned Jack. Michael picked up the silver, bulky object. “It looks like a voice recorder from back in the days!” said Michael. The boys were speechless. After a couple seconds of Michael fumbling around with the recorder, a very weak message started playing. “My name is Collin and about ten minutes ago, my tunnel that I had been digging collapsed on me. If anybody ever finds this, PLEASE tell my parents that I love them.” Michael was astonished.

“We need to call the police now!” screamed Michael. Michael had called the police’s non-emergency line and they sent two cops shortly after. They arrived in their navy blue uniforms with an investigation kit. Michael, the kids, and the workers stood back for quite some time while the police collected samples of bone and clothing.

After about three hours of work, the two policemen came back with sad, pale faces. The cops started to talk to Michael. ”After analyzing the corpse, we have come to a conclusion that this was no homicide, but what looks like an accident. We did some tests on the bone samples and looked through the police’s local missing record and have identified the boy as a twelve-year-old by the name of Collin Greene. We have already called a team that will take the body and give him a proper burial. Sadly, both of Collin’s parents passed away about seventeen years ago. They would have died to see this day...”

Everyone there listening was astonished. Michael looked back at the body when he remembered the recorder. “I am sorry, but I think you need to listen to this. We found it right next to him,” said Michael. He played the tape for them and when it finished, there was a look of sadness in the cops eyes.

The day had been followed by the dark of the night as Michael looked out the window of his apartment. The boys were already asleep and the all the rooms silent. He kept staring out of the window when he thought about the life of Collin. How sad it was to only live twelve years of your life when you planned to live ninety. Michael yawned just about to go to bed. He turned off the lights and looked at the cityscape one last time. He walked only five feet in shadows when he heard a whisper saying,”Thank you ...”