The Elevator Ride | Teen Ink

The Elevator Ride

May 18, 2022
By Izzy_Em BRONZE, Coeur D' Alene, Idaho
Izzy_Em BRONZE, Coeur D' Alene, Idaho
4 articles 0 photos 0 comments

The second the elevator doors shut, I knew I had made a mistake. I'm already nervous about elevators, and this one definitely wasn't up to code. For how polished and fancy the rest of the building was, the elevators and staircases left something to be desired. It had flickering lights and a strange, almost dusty smell to it. I'm also pretty sure there was a bloodstain in the corner. I just wanted to get in and get out. I don't know why I agreed to deliver the pizza to the 44th floor when I knew that the only way to get there on time was by elevator. I wasn't thinking properly, and now I had to try and stay professional as I delivered a pizza to a group of stuffy businessmen in stuffy suits in stuffy rooms in a stuffy office in a stuffy building with this stuffy elevator. I just wish I could get out of this elevator before I start having a full-on panic attack. I doubt I would keep my job if some rich guy saw the pizza boy sobbing and rocking on the floor of the elevator with slices of pizza strewn around him. Granted, he'd probably laugh at me and then call and complain to my bosses. I was already on thin ice, and I have a bunch of bills to pay, and a roof to try and keep over my head. I just wish this elevator would go faster. I also wish this elevator would stop screaming every time it moves. Instead, I get to stand here awkwardly and pretend I wasn't panicking on only the 15th floor. 

It's been ten minutes and I'm only on the 27th floor. I still have 17 floors to go. I wish I'd let Jared go instead of me. He was actually excited at the prospect of seeing the 44th floor of a newspaper building. I do want to see Donna, but not this badly. I just wish I had never decided to become a pizza boy. Now I’m being forced to conquer my biggest fear. I can’t even think properly anymore. My anxiety is drowning out all logical reasoning. The lights started to flicker before completely shutting off, and the elevator shook. I crossed myself and started praying to every deity I'd ever heard of. Sure, I'm normally an atheist, but I refuse to take any chances. I just hope that the god(s) I meet in the afterlife are the same ones I remembered and prayed to. I'm the type of unlucky idiot who meets the one god they forgot in the longest prayer of all time. The lights flickered back on and I may have started crying in relief and kissing the disgusting floor of that disgusting elevator. There was a ding as the doors opened and I straightened up immediately. I picked up the upturned pizza box and tried to hide the tears on my face. There were those stupid security guards again. 

One had the audacity to start talking to me, “Sir, you know the drill. I don’t know how you keep getting in here, but you need to stop.” 

I glared at them, “I don’t know what you guys are talking about! I am just doing my job, why do you question me? I’m just a pizza guy!” They can’t seem to understand why I’m saying this. 

“Sir, we’re going to call the authorities. Maybe they can figure out how you keep escaping. Come with us before we have to restrain you.” They were wrong, all wrong. I wasn’t escaping from anywhere. Except for that evil place, that evil padded room with that tight, so tight, white jacket. They were lying when they said this was the land of the free. If it’s a free country, why am I being locked up? 

I tried to explain this to the guards, “My wife works here! Just call her! Donna, that’s her name! Just don’t take me away from my wife, she’s expecting me! She’s one of the reporters here!”

The guard sighed, “Sir, we’ve been over this. Your wife died three years ago. This is the psychiatric hospital. You’re here because you went over the deep end after she died. You aren’t a delivery guy and you need to stop doing this.” They had to have been lying. My sweet Donna was still alive. That’s why I permitted myself to that god-awful elevator, it was to see my wife. She was the main breadwinner in our house. God, I’m so proud of her. So why did these guards not understand me? I started yelling until I felt that all too familiar prick in my back. It was time to visit Donna indeed. The sweet embrace of darkness embraced me and I could just faintly hear Donna laughingly scolding me for my antics.


The author's comments:

This was a rather weird piece, but I wanted to practice misdirection so I tried my best. I am so sorry if you feel as confused as I did writing this.


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