Elevator Euphoria (?)

Warning: Strong language, mature themes.

White light, too bright, I can't stand it. The echoing of sirens and screams, too real. I fitted in my Airpods, they're most likely counterfeit, but at least the sound quality ain't too bad. The passers-by gave me dirty looks, pulling their innocent children near them. Last thing I remembered was yellow tape and blood. Now, I'm here, at this place. God, I hate it here.

So I ran. I ran to the furthest lift lobby. I need to get out of here. When I arrived, no soul was in sight, it was just me and the elevator. Then, the door opened. I stepped in and closed the doors quickly, I didn't feel like having company.

I don't remember pressing the storey buttons, but that doesn't matter. Where could I go anyway? I collapsed, my legs were wobbly and couldn't support my body of blubber. I decided to seek solace, in the cooling air and the metallic flooring.

It was a few minutes of vintage music and the dim lights. I felt at home for the time, at a unfamiliar place. I stared at the corner of the elevator, where the large mirror was. I could see myself. Damn, what a mess. I let out a small chuckle, no wonder I scared the fuck out of them. Then I stopped, staring at my reflection closer. Is this what I had become, a sunken-eyed, messy-haired, overweight girl with smudged eyeliner on her face? How did I get to this?

I stared into my distorted leather backpack, looking at its contents. Broken crimson lipstick, red-liquid drink stains, a dome-shaped projector, a bunch of hundred-dollar bills, a party.

Thud. The lights went out. The whooshing sound of the air-conditioner stopped. It was pitch black.

What the actual fuck? I switched on my phone and opened Whatsapp.

I scrolled down my contacts, who should I seek help? Then I stopped scrolling, I saw the one. Liam, nicknamed 'boyfriend'. For real? Oh wait yes, we've been dating since Sophomore year.

I pressed 'call' and waited for an answer, I received one. It was from a robot, "Sorry Liam is not available now. Hold for a voicemail. "

So I did.

"Liam, I miss you. uh, can u come and fetch me? I'm in a hospital and everything hurts. The elevator had a power outage now I'm stuck. Please come, I really need you now." I wanted to say that.

But instead I said, "Hey Liam? I am, uh, stuck in an elevator on Mount Wellington Street Hospital. I'm in a rural hospital and the elevator had a power outage. I understand that you're not free so please call the authorities for me. I miss yo--".

I wasn't able to say too much, I was afraid I was too needy for Liam. Always so clingy and a damsel-in-distress.

The voicemail had ended. Fucking asshole robot piece of shit.

I couldn't stand the darkness, it was getting caught up in my throat, it was suffocating. I got an idea. The projector, hopefully it still has battery after a wild night of partying. I ransacked my backpack, and felt the dome-shaped projector. I felt for the on/off button and clicked on it a few times, then the light came.

It was a Galaxy Projector.

Oh and I forgot to mention, the air ventilation had stopped so in 30 minutes or so, I might suffocate to death. But you know, I don't think I mind dying like this. With the melancholic background music still playing in my ears, and the best lighting one could get in the world, it was soothing and peaceful.

I didn't keep track of the time. And... I think I might have fell asleep. I can't move though, and my stomach signals me an ominous feeling. I was back in the party venue again, the neon lights and rap music playing. I must be dreaming. Wake up, wake up. But I couldn't.

It was a party after lame homecoming, all those slow dancing wasn't made for us. Long dresses? No way. So the team of juniors invited the 'cool kids' to the party. Neon rave and bop music, exactly what we wanted. I went with Sarah because Liam was busy studying for his business class, don't blame him but he missed some real shit. Who was Sarah? A beautiful Irish-American, who I met since Grade 3. I was just me, an overweight 5'4 16 year old, who used to like jeans but now hates it because it always gets tight in the thighs. I sometimes envy her but life is just life you know? I wasn't necessarily an introvert, sure I have depression but I still party hard. That's why me and Sarah clicked at first sight, we had the same interests: partying, drinking, but a little bit of studying too. She was my platonic soulmate. There she was, Sarah Wilson, my childhood friend, gobbling up vodka and pouring into my mouth some. I wanted to talk to her but I couldn't. She pulled me to the balcony but I heard myself say, "Sorry I'll look at you from downstairs," So she went. She went up on the stairs, after shots and shots of tequila. Once she reached the balcony, she raised her hands and shouted at me. I smiled back. Then she danced by herself, taking all the spotlight in the black night. Sarah was a 5'7 gorgeous girl with blue highlights on her scarlet hair. Sarah was a literal flame dazzling in the moonlight. The ominous feeling in my stomach worsened, I couldn't help but feel worried.

Then she dropped. 3 storeys down, onto the ceramic floor I was standing on. Blood splashed on my face, with more gushing out her neck and skull. Her white bodycon dress was now dyed red with brown undertones.Despite, the bloodied gore of her body, one thing remained constant. It was her luscious hair. I remembered everything.

Then I felt air rushing back to my lungs, and as I gasped for air, my voice came back to me and I let out a shriek. Then I felt a pair of arms grabbed me, it was a solid grasp. Then, somehow comforted by its presence, I broke down into waterfalls. I opened my eyes slowly, to see a male figure with light blonde hair embracing me.

Oh god, he came, he actually did. It was Liam.