For two minutes

Momentum. 10:19 at night. Florida's South. Forever, the traffic light stares at me mockingly while it remains red. I rapidly looked in both directions and for what seemed like miles, no car was in sight. Is this a joke of any kind? Observing myself in the rearview mirror, I saw nothing. Montgomery James. Brown hair, a green sweater vest, glasses, and an uncut beard. According to some, I look like a young Robin Williams from Good Will Hunting. That's a praise I'll take—a ten-year veteran journalist at the same local newspaper department. Learning Spanish is the only thing I've done differently over this time.

Living in a Hispanic community would be advantageous. We all know how family reunions go, so it's not like I'm rushing to get there. "James, how's work going?" is one of the pointless, predetermined questions people ask. You also lie about how nicely work is going and how you're about to get a big promotion. Ultimately, there are moments when you have to run a red light in your life. Honestly, the Galettes were the only thing I had anticipated. It's my all-time favorite dessert from childhood. They were only excellent when my mom prepared them, mainly around the holidays. A pound of sugar and nine eggs—you can see that this is good. It would be a victory if I could get past the nonsense, grab hold of them, and get away. Before stepping on the accelerator, I notice a bug scuttling up my window. It was gazing at me with those emerald eyes through the looking glass. It resembled a chameleon, almost. I lower the window, toss the bug into the road's surface, and then raise it back up. I accelerate my car forward, through the uncooperative light, and down the road without any more wait.

When I reach the front of my parent's driveway, my boyhood home is barely visible over the dense forest. The reddish-orange lamp in front of the house was so alluring that it felt like it was pulling me in. Suddenly, I was afraid of the house's exterior. It was a simple white house, but as it grew older, the white paint started to flake off and show a light brownish hue. The front porch was old, gray, and lacking several floorboards, but the roof was still in place and dark maroon. The house would appear innocuous during the day, but it would transform into this vague illusion of a peeling smile at night. Although there were unmistakable similarities, I thought this wasn't my home. Since I last came here in years ago, something had to happen. Mainly because my supervisor always requires me to be in the office. I'm shocked that I can't leave at this time. This vast black truck that follows the cars in front of it is what I come up behind. Without a doubt, this is my brother Alex. It could still be identified by the stickers that read "State Champions 2001" and "Class of 2002." Yes, he still feels like a hot mess for being the backup quarterback of a high school football team that won a state title fifteen years ago. My parents constantly exalted him, much more so than I was. I cross the enormous vehicle, go up the porch, and approach the door.

Welcome, it said on the door. God bless everyone who enters this house.

I kept reading that and thought, "That should be fun."

When I last visited the living room, it had the same exact appearance. The spacious entertainment center occupied most of the space. Furniture surrounds it, and cat toys are strewn all over the faded brown carpet. Moving from one side of the room to the other with all the cat towers and furnishings felt like an obstacle course.

"Hey, mom!" I shouted. "I apologize for being late; I was caught in traffic."

I felt a frigid breeze strike the back of my neck as I turned to close the door behind me, freezing me in place. Alex was standing just a few inches away when I gently turned around.

"Alex, holy sh*t!" Pushing him to a comfortable distance, I said gently. "And there you are."

Alex simply smiled while standing there. His scarlet stain from selling cars covered his uniform, perhaps because Cherry Coke was his favorite beverage, his left eye was blemished with dark bruises, and his long, golden hair reached the back of his head. His class ring was always on, although it didn't seem to be on his fingers anymore. He simply stood there and gazed at me

"Alex, would you like to spend some more time with me?" was the joke I told. He laughed like a hyena in the strangest way I've ever heard him laugh. His whole body shook with this laugh, and he resumed watching.

"Hey, could you let Mom know I'm here, wherever she is?" I questioned and awaited his answer.

"James, I can do that for you," he said with a nod.

Alex spun slowly, flew around the corner, and into the kitchen ahead. Okay, that's when I realized there was a problem. He never indeed called me James or even by my name. A douche, a queer, and pretty much anything else you could imagine existed, but James was never one of them. I strolled into the kitchen and began looking over the table. Food was abundant, yet only a few morsels had been removed from the platters. Gravy, corn, mashed potatoes, chicken, and wait—no way. Galettes! I quickly moved to the table and sat down, placing the Galettes beside the knives and spoon. They are cookies but have a golden brown appearance and resemble waffles. I bite one after picking it up. Surprisingly excellent.

Something started to happen downstairs, and as it made its way upstairs, the sound of footfall got louder and louder until the door suddenly flew open, and Alex was standing there, grinning uncontrollably.

"Everyone is waiting for you downstairs," said Alex. It's really unfortunate that you arrived late."

"All right..." I say, glancing back and forth between him and the open basement door. I couldn't help but look over and notice Alex standing on the other side of the door, right outside the shovel. It's unnerving that I haven't seen anyone else yet.

I move gently over to the basement door, taking great caution. Alex is just staring at me while he presents the pitch-black basement to me by flinging his arm through the door.

"Are you sure they are down there?" I ask, scared. Since I don't perceive any—

"Oh, all of them, every single part of them, are down there." He nearly mumbled the last bit under his breath and hissed.

I step down, but I swiftly step back up again. "Women ahead?" I vomited. He fixed a deadly stare on me.

"All right, I'm leaving," I stated.

Gazing down the cellar steps feels akin to looking directly into the face of death. Alex has to be pulling some practical joke here, and if so, he's nailing it. I turn to face him, a hint of panic in my gaze.

"Go ahead," a quiet Alex said.

Then, with dread growing with each step, I descend the stairs. About halfway down, I notice a light on the distant side of the basement wall. A red light nearly as bright as the stop sign was glowing. I remember being young and being brought down here by Alex, who then locked me down. The same chilly darkness that greeted me that day.

"Mom? Guys?" I cry and get no response.

When I stepped onto the basement's ground floor, something felt off. After moving a short distance, a hole appears in the shadows.

I ask, "What in the—?"

It's impossible to see what might be below or how far down it descends because it's too dark. I turn to check for Alex, but he's nowhere in the picture. Looking around the basement, I see mounds of filthy soil where there used to be more holes. I bend over to look closer, but something is there to disturb me. When I turn around, a truck approaching from behind lights up my face. I brace my arms for the impact, for my impending death, as it gets closer and closer, as it's going downhill. The truck disappears at the last second, and a man appears out of a mirage and shoves me into the hole. Although the fall was brief, the landing was difficult. I could hear the crunch of metal and bones and feel something jagged hurting. Looking to my right as I attempt to get up from my fall, I notice Alex's class ring on the hand of a severed limb. Dozens of rotting, decapitated bodies lay beneath it.

"Christ Jesus!" I say these words as I stagger upright to grab the pit's wall.

It laughs again, and I hear it laughing from above. I raise my head to get a peek of it.

"Comfy?" it enquired.

Although it appeared to be Alex, Alex was down here with the other pieces of humanity so that it couldn't be.

"Alex, you're not me! Who the devil are you? I beg for what I want.

Its eyeballs fall out of its sockets, leaving these horrible glaring green reptile eyes—without even trying to answer. Its back started to spew spikes, and a big, slimy tail followed. It resembled a larger version of the bug I noticed end route to this location. It appeared to transform into a different person and discard the corpse in this pit. It snatched up the shovel and began hurling dirt at me frighteningly. With every strike from the earth, the soil becomes more dense. The air gets softer when the red light goes out. Alone with my thoughts, I find myself. I glance at my watch, which is now showing 10:21.

For two minutes

Buried Already.