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George never would have guessed a coffin could hold so many marbles. From the outside it looked small and compact barely enough room for his dog to fit. But as he peers into the coffin with rivers down his face, George becomes content, realising that there is enough room for all 157 of his favourite marbles to make his beloved dog, Tiger, feel as though he is not alone, he is still there will him. Instead of playing fetch with a ball, Tiger would fetch marbles. The sound they would make whirling down the concrete would excite Tiger as he clumsily galloped after them. Tiger lies in the coffin peacefully with his paws curled and eyes shut. There is a protruding lump in his throat that reminds George of how he died. Those stupid marbles he thinks to himself!

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George never would have guessed a coffin could hold so many marbles. You see, the problem was that he had to hide that he was still alive. 17 000 marbles, it would take, and George at first wasn't sure they would all fit. But one by one, ball by ball, the deathly white, wooden casket was filled to the rim with those little glass pieces that clicked when they rolled around.

He was afraid that that sound would give the plot away.

So he packed in some paper, and poured in some glue, so that when the coffin moved the racket would be muffled or wouldn't sound at all. This plan had to work. He had to escape.

While he formulated this plot, he stared at the ceiling and watched the shadows outside flick shapes onto the peeling paint. He listened to the roar of trucks passing on the highway and the sirens as they announced another deathly call. He realised his life had become an endless, meaningless cycle of boredom which circled and spun in the same way each day. He was so tired of it all, and he hated the way that the life that he used to hold dear had contorted monstrously to devour his will to continue. So he decided it was time to let it all go, and to return to the peace which he experienced as a young child.

He wasn't leaving behind anything but a meagre, underpaid job at the local café, and the little spider named Brutus in the corner of the room.

When this plan succeeded, his funeral bring him back to life.

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George never would have guessed a coffin could hold so many marbles. After we had travelled about 3-4km we had found an abandoned broken down hut where we found multiple coffins, all filled with different things, one filled with marbles, so many marbles, another half filled with yo-yos and another with jelly in it. For some reason George was so intrigued that a coffin could hold so many marbles that he wasn't getting past the fact we just found a rundown shack in the middle of a creepy forest. He stood there for 5 minutes, mouth wide open, eventually on his knees because he lost his thoughts just staring at the coffin as if he had no soul.

"Come on George, we have to leave, what is with you anyway?", rambled Josh. "Let's leave anyway, mum has dinner cooking, I bet it will be ready by the time we get back."

"No!", yelped George, "I'm taking the marbles with me!".

George started to flip out, he was scattering marbles everywhere trying to drag them home,

"Let me take them! Let me take them!", screamed George frantically. It was almost dark and George was still persisting on getting these marbles home, still not knowing why he was so interested in the marbles and not the jelly or yo-yos. I was hungry and I could tell George wasn't stopping until he got them home. Whilst trying to convince George to give it up I noticed a wooden figure lying on the ground so I went back and picked it up, told George I was sorry and clubbed him across the head, I felt bad at the time but after dragging him home I just ate that home-cooked spaghetti and tried to forget about what happened.

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George never would have guessed a coffin could hold so many marbles. On that day of the great punishment set by his evil step mother. George was an ordinary boy a little weird depending on who you asked his mum had passed away in recent years and he was forced to live with an evil, sinister lady known as Beth. After school one day when he got home as soon as he went down into his dark room in the basement he found a coffin laying on top of his bed filled with marbles. He tried to move it but it was way too heavy with all the marbles in it. Just as he started to scoop them out down the stairs she came. Thump.. Thump.. Thump.. The stairs creaked and moaned behind her as she sluggishly moved down the stairs trying to keep her overweight body from falling down. "you see all those marbles….. You need to count them before you leave the room or else you won't be getting any dinner" and she left the basement the stairs crying as her fat legs bend them with every step she took. He began counting making bundles of 50 and adding them all together into a sock. The sock began to stretch and get heavier and heavier. Each marble that went into the sock was another mass that George would use as a weapon against this evil step mother.

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George never would have guessed a coffin could hold so many marbles. When the man at the booth finally announced that the coffin had exactly 15,000 marbles George was amazed. He had only guessed 4000, what a fool he was. Realising he would not win the big prize, he sulked away. He was astonished and disappointed at the same time, and for the rest of the day all George could think about was how a coffin could hold so many marbles. Finally, it was time to leave the show, but George wanted to take one last look at the coffin. He walked right up to it and when he looked closely he noticed something wasn’t right, something was odd. It hit George like a bus, this coffin was a fake, it had no bottom! He knew a coffin couldn’t hold that many marbles, the booth owner was no where in sight. George sighed, he would never really know how many marbles a coffin could hold.

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George never world have guessed a coffin could hold so many marbles.

It was odd, a little too odd, for something that his father cherished he didn’t anticipate that his casket  would be filled with such small things. His obsession had driven him mad, most likely to the point of insanity. It was his only treasure, these marbles. Fuck the kids that he was supposed to love whilst his mother was in the presence of death, it was these shitty things that he could only care about. His sister however had no remorse for his death.

Why was George there? Well he was trying to find out who exactly put his father in this exact position so he could see his father's pathetic state, as he wasn’t able to attend the funeral. Looking onward he couldn’t deny their beauty, each individual marble like a priceless gem. He moved the marbles away from the surface, anticipating his father's face to look him directly in the eyes to laugh. To mock. However there was no body. Why and how in the hell did his body disappear? Did he magically get up and leave, then how was the coffin so full, only his precious marbles locked away within it, unless someone moved him out of there, or even better yet, that sick bastard faked his own death. George's heart sank  slightly, he felt it constrain against what felt like nothing but what was pissing him off then. That psycho maniac is probably free in the world doing his own business, living his life in a ditch, festering among his shitty possessions.

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George never would have guessed a coffin could hold so many marbles. But as he stood over the coffin he felt as if the plan would actually work. No one would ever know that George survived the plane crash, no one would ever be looking for him again. The marbles were placed into the coffin so they would add the weight of a human body and therefore lead others to believe he was actually in there. George stood hunched over in a black cloak with and a large brimmed hat pulled down low so as not to see his face. He watched as the coffin was carried down the church and heard the cries of his mourners. Georges heart skipped a beat at the pain he was causing but knew if he revealed himself he would cause so much more. He could never return after the funeral, it was if it were a funeral for his old self, the real George and he too was saying goodbye to the simplicity that once was. After George had caught the real killer and cleared his him could he even think about returning to the arms of his mother who stood later over the marbles being lowered into the ground.

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George never would have guessed a coffin could hold so many marbles. It had been nine years since he had attended the fair, and for good reason. It originated as nothing more than a day of children's entertainment. However it became known as an event for the minority of people within society that were outcast as strange far beyond normal means. As George approached the entrance he was taken aback by the display of multiple clear coffins, all stacked on top of each other. Upon closer inspection he noticed that the coffins were filled with an array of different marbles, some as large as a golf ball and others filled the pitiful gaps. A man dressed in ridiculously flamboyant attire stood at the front of the display, advertising the guessing competition.

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George never would have guessed a coffin could hold so many marbles.

Days had past and George was still distraught from the death of his humble Grandfather. He replayed old but loving memories of them fishing together and  always trying to catch the biggest fish in the lake he even remembered the days his Grandfather would teach him how to nurture a  vegetable garden or ride a tractor on his spacious property; tears fell from his eyes and he then re visited the thought of his grandfather's pale hands, and crackling voice upon the days of his death. George's mum always made a remark to Grandfathers lack of memory, it sounded something like this - " oh sweetie don’t worry, Grandfathers just lost his marbles", George could never understand this statement and was confused because he would never see his grandfather play with marbles unlike other elders. The morning before the funeral service George wished to have a moment in the church alone with his Grandfather's lifeless body, wrapped away in the brown wooden coffin, suddenly, the lights began to flicker, some had blown and glass shattered over George's head, he began to feel uneasy, as he stepped back, away from the glass, the church doors slammed shut! BANG! George instantly fell to his knees as fear was overwhelming him. The coffin where his Grandfather lay, began to shake, George could feel the vibrations from the floor, it was shaking and turning ready to fall off its stand………! Then one by one marbles began to fall from the wooden lid of the coffin, then a rush poured out like tidal waves hitting rocks. No one had been inside the church before George and no one had touched his grandfather who now no longer lays inside this coffin.

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George never would have guessed a coffin could hold so many marbles, nor would he have guessed that someone so sane would understand the fact that their own mind was their own personalised coffin assigned to them. Death had arrived early, but they were forced to live through it. The man who was in the room next to George would always yell and scream in the middle of the night, his name was Robert. Though George had never and would never meet him because they were always segregated into their own individual white cell box’s with only enough for an ample crawl space and white softly padded walls. George was always faced to hear Kane continuously yell well into the hours of the night “MY HEAD IS A COFFIN, MARBLES ROLL IN AND OUT.” The guards would always be there to stop Kane from injury but those few minutes of hearing his dark voice and those painstaking words would forever live on in Georges mind. George was only young and supposed to live a nice long loving life, but you can’t when you’re on an island 13km’s from any land trapped in a white box, wrapped in white clothing.  Life was over from the minute they arrived to their unknown destination a confined resort for the mentally broken.