The Elevator Power Outage
by michelle w. on May 24, 2013
Fiction writers: You’re stuck in an elevator with an intriguing stranger. Write this scene.
Fourteen hours and the last half of a Milky Way later, I am still in the dark. Completely in the dark. I know.. It is a power outage as my phone is not working, the lights are out and my cell phone looks like it has about 10% battery left. Dang. I have had to pee in the corner already and I can’t stand the smell. I thought that I would get used to it, but the acrid-filled puddle fills the small area with more smell than something so small should be able to release!
I am tired, but I have not been able to sleep as it is just so creepy. I tried yelling for help, but it seems everyone else was out of the building or nowhere near the elevator when I called out. Not that there were too many to hear me in the first place, but for Pete’s sake, you would think that someone would have brains enough to check and make sure that there was nobody stuck in the shaft. I am so tired.
It is funny how your mind wanders at times like this. First calling for help, sure that someone would hear me, then I was seriously mad. I screamed out just in frustration, randomly cursing everything that came to my mind. You would think that someone would have heard me blocks away. I guess they didn’t. Obviously, they didn’t. I plunked down on my butt, crossed my arms and steamed for a while. No cell service. Are you kidding???? My cell is an extension to my being! I don’t know how I ever survived without it.
Thankful for the warm autumn weather, I have bundled my coat under me (onto the very dirty floor – straight to dry cleaners after this!). I want to sleep so badly, but I am stressing. What if no-one comes all weekend? Will my children even know how to contact authorities and tell them where I might be without a phone? What if they don’t figure out what to eat? What if all the food in the freezer melts? What if I have to do a number 2? What if I die of hunger? I am so hungry, but I am more stressed than hungry. I really need to get out of here.
I resign myself to lying down, perhaps this will calm me. Breathe deep. Worrying, panicking, stressing – these things are doing nothing for me, here in the dark. I want to look at my phone to see the time again, but I don’t want to use up whatever little battery there is, so I just drift. And drift. I pray for a long time. I like when I can just talk to God without interruptions. There are always interruptions, but not today. Only my stress tries to creep its way into my conversation. Stress is pretty good at interrupting, but I come to realize that it really is only when I allow it to and that I have control over the panic rather than the other way around. But it is a strong and relentless fighter, as I am. My dad always said “good luck to the one who sets his wits against yours”. I guess this is the moment of truth.
Back to praying. Oh God.. Please make sure that the children have enough sense to go to a neighbour’s house and seek some food and supervision. Please make sure that there are not old people locked up in elevators elsewhere like I am right now. Please make sure that there are people who will be looking for people that could be stuck like I am right now. Please, please, please send someone to find me.
I miss Daddy. He always knew what to do. He would know what to do. He would be calm, almost chuckle at me and say “why are you worrying SweetPea?” I need him. It has been too long since I have heard his voice. Too long since I felt his tender hand on my shoulder with a quick, reassuring squeeze. Too long since I could call him at the spur of the moment to ask him about the movie that was playing or who was that singer, or what happened when. He just seemed to know everything. Maybe most girls have always felt that way. Daddy just always knew the right thing to say and do. Logic to calm my emotion; thinking to calm my anxiety, a warm hand with a tissue to dry my tears and love. Always love, oozing over in uncuttable measure. I miss his love so much.
I need to know that my kids are ok. Dear God, please, make sure that they are not scared. Make sure that they think of the good things and that they know I am probably just stuck in an elevator after work. They are so innocent. God, please don’t let them be worried about me. Please don’t let them be hungry, panicked or scared. I need to know that they are ok.
I have a warm, spilling feeling fall over me, like the warmth of a perfect shower filled with fragrant oil. I feel peace, warmth, love, calm and faith all at once. God is with me. 🙂 He is here… I knew that He would be. He is with my children and has sent a messenger of love to tell me so.
I smile in the dark. God’s love and the sweetness of the moment fill me as I smile like a kid at the movies in the dark with an ear-to-ear grin. How could I be any happier? There is no panic. There is no worry; there is no fear. God is with me and has taken care of my children.
I drift and drift with that silly, simple smile on my face. He loves me. He is with my children. All is well.
I wake up to voices… maybe minutes, or several hours later, but someone is calling my name over and over.
I am here!!!!
I am driven home after the doors of the elevator are peeled open and driven, thankfully, blissfully home.
It is the morning and my neighbour is in the front yard with my children. They seem happy and don’t notice the rescue car that I am in at first. When I pull into the driveway, all three look at me at once. My eldest, my daughter started to cry. My middle one came up to me silently and hugged me hard and tight, holding back his tears. My little Michael.. Well.. He is my little Michael. I saw tears well up in his eyes and then he started to yell at me. “Where were you>???? Where have you been???? Do you know that we had to sleep at Wendy’s last night??? We thought that you were dead!!!! (Tears showed a hint of slithering down a cheer again), Do you know that we were so scared for you that we prayed and prayed???? Why didn’t you come home?? Why weren’t you here for us?? Why didn’t you call us???
Well, home is home is home. I smiled and wrapped all three of them in my arms. My dear God, thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you!!!!!
This love is more precious than life itself. I think that is what God is trying to teach me. That His love for us, is far greater that life itself. So much so that He gave up the most precious thing He had for our sakes.