It was the thudding of dirt that woke him. His eyes flew open, and he began to pound on the plank of wood in front of him, yelling.
He hadn't meant for this to happen. He had just been messing around — playing. He hadn't meant for this to happen.
There was a pause. A soft rustling noise, then a click that he recognized as a lighter. Seconds later, he heard a whoosh, the wood near his feet catching alight. He pounded harder, his voice going hoarse. Nothing happened. Nothing but the flames.