Tempted by my flesh, I bit my arms and
sucked my skin with a fiendish desire to drive my teeth in, but I was
afraid of drawing blood.
Then I ardently longed for death. All my life long I had trembled at the
thought of dissolution, but I had come to yearn for it, to crave for an
everlasting night that could never be dark enough. How childish it had
been of me to dread the long, dreamless sleep, the eternity of silence
and gloom! Death was kind, for in suppressing life it put an end to
suffering. Oh, to sleep like the stones, to be no more!
With groping hands I still continued feeling the wood, and suddenly
I pricked my left thumb. That slight pain roused me from my growing
numbness. I felt again and found a nail--a nail which the undertaker's
men had driven in crookedly and which had not caught in the lower wood.
It was long and very sharp; the head was secured to the lid, but
it moved. Henceforth I had but one idea--to possess myself of that
nail--and I slipped my right hand across my body and began to shake
it. I made but little progress, however; it was a difficult job, for my
hands soon tired, and I had to use them alternately. The left one, too,
was of little use on account of the nail's awkward position.
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