It was an average day, nothing exceptional had occurred…yet. As I left work at around 7:30 pm I headed to the elevator to take me to my car on the 5th-floor parking lot. These elevators weren’t the most modern or even trustworthy, but 5 flights of stairs did not sound appealing to me. I hopped in while looking on my phone, I was the only one inside so didn’t even really bother looking up. I pressed my level 5 and refreshed my Instagram feed, but then the lights started to flicker. A flicker soon turned into back, and the whole elevator came to a halt. No floor sign, no lights, and pressing the buttons did nothing. For a second I count believe it, this had never happened to me. Alone in the small square, my anxiety shot up immediately.

I turned my flashlight up to try and call the emergency hotline, after a few loud beeps, and a ringing telephone, I was connected to a man in a call center. He asked what my emerges was and I told him, he asked if I needed immediate medical attention or had a disability and I responded, he asked if I needed anything before he contacted someone to come get me out, and I said “Just please hurry, I’m in here all alone and scared”. He assured me he would call me back in ten minutes. At that moment, that felt like forever.
I sat down, the elevator continued to move, shake and change floors. I imagined it would just drop and I would die like in a movie.

The service was spotty, but I called my sister who always answers. She could barely make out what I was saying, but I told her I loved her and I would call her back as soon as I was out. It sounds dramatic but I didn’t know what was going to happen. With each bump, move, and flicker I got more and more afraid. This elevator I used countless times a week, and with people, had never felt so small. It was as if all my anxiety and anguish filled the square, and there was no room for anything else. I found it hard to breathe, which was just me being crazy, the air quality was fine.

I sat there, alone, in the dark for 13 minutes. Waiting for someone to rescue me, or for a light to turn back on and I could go about my day again. Even though the space felt so filled and I was busting at the seams, I also recognized how little I was in that corner. I was helpless and had no control over anything in that space, except making sure didn’t go ballistic.

After a few bumps, I could finally hear people outside, and very quickly the lights turned on and the door opened. A few businessmen were waiting outside, getting ready to get on. I was huddled in the corner looking very disheveled. I shot up without saying anything and stormed past them. “I wouldn’t use that” was all I dared to muddle to them. I climbed a few flights and went to my car to cry and unload the fear that was inside me.

The next day, I took the stairs, and I have every day after. On the bright side, my legs are looking quite good.