Taphephobia

Just so you are all aware, I'm no writer. I am just a 16 year old with a love for words. My latest challenge (Given by a teacher) was to write something other than depressing poetry, which was pretty hard considering that depressing poetry is my sole use for the English Language. Anyway, enjoy the story, It's my first attempt at something other than poetry in a while. I'll explain the gist of what I was saying in the story at the bottom of this post. Try not to be too critical, this was written in 45 minutes, and it's not a writing style I'm used to... Plus I'm still in high school!

Taphepobia: The word "taphephobia" comes from the Greek "taphos" meaning "grave" + "phobia" from the Greek "phobos" meaning "fear" = literally, fear of the grave, or fear of being put in the grave while still alive.

Taphephobia
Lucy felt a distant calm envelope what she thought to be the world, her aching hands eased from around the rough steering wheel as the desert cold seemed to seep into her very bones. It was a dark, empty night, the highway appeared to stretched into infinity, and Lucy felt a peacefulness in the thought of this perpetual, directionless travel. As the glow of her headlights interrogated the darkness ahead, the dashed, yellow patches of paint began to shake and shimmer violently on the road. It was as if her headlights had awoken these fiery streaks from an impermanent stillness. Lucy fumbled nervously around her car’s dashboard, trying desperately to dim the source of this blazing activity. Then Lucy’s hands found a switch by the steering wheel and she hurriedly clicked it into place. Within an instant the bright flickering on the road ceased and darkness choked a lethargic numbness upon all that surrounded Lucy.
“Am I dead?” She thought to herself. “Where am I?”
Lucy quickly began to move about, frantically searching for anything of substance. She flailed her arms violently around her, but suddenly stopped dead in her tracks. Her hand had thumped against the rugged wooden surface above her, and only one word came to mind. “Coffin...” It was then that an empty hopelessness swirled around inside of her. Lucy screamed, and screamed, and screamed for what seemed to be hours, and then came a silence… She noticed the bitter taste of blood in her mouth, and knew it was over.

Luckily this writing challenge didn't say I had to write something happy, I would have failed that horribly.