Lights Out Cynthia Brookes

It was in the dead of night, she had chosen to move in the middle of the night to avoid any socialization with another human being, people frightened her, they horrified her, she was always one to stumble over her words, and when she did it only made her more embarrassed. Cynthia didn’t just dislike people, she hated them, it wasn’t particularly anyone’s fault she didn’t like conversing with people, she had severe anxiety and it was hard for her to talk to people. She had moved out of her parent's place and found a place on her own, it was a relatively old building but it was cheap and all she could afford. It was almost midnight, her neighbors would be fast asleep by now. Cynthia had just finished moving her belongings into her empty apartment, she only had a dozen or so boxes and the movers yesterday had already brought all the furniture inside, of course, she made she wasn’t there for it and even left an envelope of cash in the fridge for the movers when they were finished. Cynthia plopped down on the couch but soon realized she had forgotten something, she let out a frustrated sigh and began to attempt to prepare herself for what she was about to face, her landlord, Harold. She had promised she would collect the mail key from him as soon as she had finished moving, but she didn’t want to talk to anyone, she was exhausted and she didn’t need the stress of talking to another human being but alas, it had to be done. Cynthia took in a deep breath and shakily let it out, she grabbed her keys and walked out the front door, making sure to lock the door before she left. She made her way down the hall, looking around at the dirty and cracked beige walls that were plastered with eerie paintings, one particular painting had creeped her out the most; a bust of a man who seemed in a great deal of pain, with branches sprouting from his mouth, eyes, and ears, though when she stared at it, she notices the branches looked more like bones then wood. Cynthia shook her head and walked up to the elevator and pressed the button. Cynthia watched the elevator doors open, she stepped out into the library only to be faced with more creepy paintings, one in particular stood out among the others, it was a young woman in white, she stood in a dark room surrounded by statues draped in white sheets.

“Ms. Brookes…” An elderly man’s voice uttered.

Cynthia nearly felt her heart stop when she turned to see her landlord staring at her, “Harold, don’t scare me like that…” She panted, trying to catch her breath, “You nearly scared me half to death, I came to get my mail key…” She uttered.

Harold grinned and nodded, he felt his pockets but shook his head and walked into his office, he took off his glasses and rubbed them clean with the sleeve of his sweater; he then put his glasses back on and turned around to see Cynthia impatiently waiting in the hall, he walked up to her and held out her mail key to her. Cynthia forced a smile and reached out for the key only for him to grab it and hold it in his hand, he grinned at her and chuckled but ended up turning into a violent cough. Harold looked as though he was in his late seventies, he had dentures that were stained yellow and almost a tinge of brown, he reeked of tobacco and sweat.

“I would be careful walking around these parts late at night…” He said, “A young woman like yourself shouldn’t be alone if you know what I mean,” Harold told her.

“I hardly ever leave my apartment anyways, can I please have my mail key?” Cynthia asked.

“Why move in the dead of night? Have something to hide Ms. Brookes?” Harold asked, he cackled and handed her a worn mail key, “I’m sure you’ve got all kinds of secrets” He grinned, pushing his glasses up his nose.

Cynthia shook her head and remained silent, she didn’t want to talk anymore, she was already stressed enough that she had to come down here, she walked up to the elevator and pressed the button but turned her head to see Harold cough into an old dirty rag; she wished and hoped the awkward silence would come to an abrupt end, how long could the elevator take to get down here, there were only several floors. She repeatedly pressed on the button, hoping it would make the elevator come down faster and in a way, she believed that little lie she kept telling herself.

“I would suggest taking the stairs, the elevator is known for breaking down…” Harold laughed.

Cynthia knew this man was only trying to frighten her and it wouldn’t work, she rolled her eyes and bid him good evening before stepping into the elevator, she watched the elevator doors close and soon felt an overbearing weight lifted off of her chest, she could finally breathe again. She wiped the sweat off of her brow and pressed the tenth-floor button, she looked up to see it slowly pass each floor one by one only to come to an abrupt halt, she stumbled backward and fell into the wall only to see the lights flicker before going out completely.

“No… No… No!” Cynthia cried, she soon began to panic and began pressing every button she could but nothing worked, she had always had a great fear of being stuck in an elevator, what if the cables were to break and she would descend down to her untimely death; she screamed and cried for help as she banged and kicked on the doors but it was no use, she even attempted to pry the doors open but it was no use, she was far too weak to pry those heavy doors open.

Small spaces didn’t bother Cynthia too much but the thought of being trapped with no escape, it horrified her and she felt as though her heart was going to beat out of her chest, her stomach was in knots and soon her mind began jumping to the most horrible of conclusions. What if the power would be out for days, surely she would die of starvation and dehydration, or perhaps run out of oxygen, the impossible and most unlikely was now possible, this could be her final resting place. Cynthia leaned against the wall and slid to the floor and began to cry. She was too young to die alone, she had too much to live for and she was only in her twenties, she was still figuring out what kind of person she was, she thought this was going to be the start of a new chapter in her life, but maybe this was where she was finally going to meet her demise. Suddenly, Cynthia heard something begin to vibrate, she quickly reached into her cardigan pocket and looked down at her cell phone, she put her phone to her ear, it was her mother.

“Mum, mum… I’m stuck in an elevator, the power went out…” Cynthia said, “I need to call the police, they’ll probably be able to get me out…” She uttered, for a moment she felt like there was hope for her, she waited for her mother to say something but alas, the line was silent; “Mum…? Are you all alright? I’m not hurt or anything, the power must have gone out in this place, electrical is probably really old… I knew my lazy butt should have taken the stairs…” She grumbled.

“Have you heard from your brother dear?” She asked.

“Brother?” Cynthia asked, “I’m an only child, what are you talking about? Did you even listen to what I was saying…?” She asked, “I’m stuck in an elevator because the power went out”.

“What time is it? I forgot to pick him up from school…” She said, then laughed at her own forgetfulness, “I have to go pick up your brother dear, I don’t want him standing outside in the cold for too long… Lights out…” She said, then she bid her daughter goodbye before hanging up the phone.

Cynthia shook her head and dialed 911, it rang several times before she heard someone pick up the phone.

“Police, fire, or ambulance?” The operator asked.

“Police please, I’m stuck…”, she heard the woman’s voice get cut off, she heard a brief few moments of static before her call connected.

“Hello, this is Thatcher, what seems to be the problem today?” He asked.

“My name is Cynthia Brookes, I’m stuck in my apartment building elevator because the power went out…” She attempted to explain.

“I just moved into this apartment, look I live on…”, “1408 Dolphin Street, right… You live in the apartment at the very end of the hall, right?” He asked.

“Yeah… How did you know?” Cynthia asked.

“Currently there is a city-wide power outage, quite an unlucky time to be in an elevator, I’m dispatching some officers your way and getting some firefighters out that way too, usually firefighters are more equipped for this kind of thing, are you hurt?” He asked.

“No, just scared…” She uttered.

“Don’t worry, I will be on the phone with you until the police arrive, so no bumps or bruises? You didn’t hit your head when the elevator stopped?” He asked.

“No no… Do you know how long it’s going to take for the police officers to get here?” Cynthia asked.

“They’ll be there soon, don’t worry” He reassured her, “When were you born Cynthia? If I can call you Cynthia, my name is Thatcher” He said.

“I was born on Friday the 13th, 1995…” Cynthia uttered, “How long is soon? I’m guessing a few hours, I’m not as important as a fire or a crime… Believe me, I know, I attempted suicide a few years back and it took the police three hours to get to me, I took a concoction of over-counter medication and they didn’t even care… They drove me to the hospital in a cop car, then they sent me home an hour later…” She said.

“They’re not going to get to you for at least another two hours or so, if there are some officers patrolling neighborhoods I’m sure they’d come and check in on you, anything is more exciting then patrolling,” He said, “Are there any emergency lights on?” He asked.

“No, the heat must have turned off too because of the power because it’s getting pretty cold in here…” Cynthia uttered, she felt the elevator fill with cold air, she breathed out and could see her breath collect in a foggy cloud before dissipating, “I mean it is snowing outside but…”, she exhaled and saw the foggy cloud again, “Where are you from, Thatcher was it?” She shivered.

“I was born in Maine, I’m two years older than you though… Friday the 13th, bet you never hear the end of that joke…” Thatcher said, hoping to ease her nervousness.

“Yep…” Cynthia laughed, “I hate when that retched holiday comes around, when I was a teenager, all the bullies at my school would scare me… I was the laughing stock of my town, can I tell you something, Thatcher?” She asked.

“Sure Cynthia, shoot anything at me, I’m here to help,” He said.

“I’m not very good at talking to people, in fact, I hate people… My anxiety is so bad that I chose to move in the middle of the night, I avoided the movers even… I’m sorry, you probably don’t want to hear my life story or anything but you’re the first person I’ve had an actual conversation with, and to be honest… You’re really easy to talk to…” Cynthia admitted.

“You seem to be doing just fine, I wasn’t good with people either and then I thought, why not talk to people for a living, and surprisingly it helped me get over my anxiety,” Thatcher told her.

“I would never have the guts to do that…” Cynthia confessed, she gasped when she felt the elevator jolt, “I know I live in an old building but please tell me that it’s only in movies that elevator cables break…” She begged, she closed her eyes and shook her head, “Nobody ever survives an elevator fall…” She uttered.

“Did the elevator jolt?” Thatcher asked.

“Yes…” Cynthia mumbled, “I’m going to die, aren’t I?” She cried.

“No you’re not, how many floors are there in your apartment building?” He asked.

“Ten floors, I was in the lobby and I live on the top floor…” Cynthia uttered, she felt the elevator jolt again and began to break into a sob, “Thatcher, say something… Anything, I don’t care what it is…” She said.

“If that elevator falls, you’re going to survive and I’m going to take you out for coffee, or dinner, whichever you prefer…” Thatcher promised.

The elevator jolted again and for a few moments, she felt her heart stop, she gasped and panted, she had never been so horrified in her life; “I’m the most boring person you’ll ever meet Thatcher, you really want to go out with a shy young woman who’s afraid of people and the world outside?” She asked.

“Honestly, you’re the most interesting person I’ve met in a while, I need you to do me a favor…” Thatcher said, “Lay on the floor and cover your head with your arms, it will help distribute the force throughout your body…” He said.

Cynthia nodded and lay down on the floor of the elevator, trying her best to breath in through her nose and out through her mouth, the elevator jolted again, “I only have ten percent left Thatcher if I don’t make it… I want you to tell my parents I love them, tell my mum I’m sorry for all the trouble I caused her as a child…” Cynthia sobbed, “Where are you going to take me for dinner hmm?” She asked; slowly the percentage of her battery went down.

“What kind of food do you like?” Thatcher asked.

“Anything, I don’t care what it is… I love diner food… I love dipping my French fries in milkshakes…” Cynthia laughed.

“I have a diner in mind that I’ll take you too, it’s a little joint on Overlook Street… You’ll love it, I’ll even take you late at night when no one’s around if that makes you feel better…” He offered.

“I’d like that a lot…” Cynthia smiled, “Thanks for talking to me Thatcher, I really appreciate it, not a lot of people talk to me…”, Cynthia screamed when she heard the cables snap, she dropped her phone and covered her head, she was not one to believe in any higher power but at this moment she prayed; she prayed that she would be spared by death, that she would be able to live on. For a few brief moments, she felt as though she was floating then heard a loud bombarding crash, she slowly looked around to see the lights flicker above before turning back on again. Cynthia slowly looked up to see the elevator doors open, she saw two police officers towering over her.

“Can I help you, ma’am?” One of the officers asked.

“The power went out and the elevator, the cables…” Cynthia pulled herself to her feet and looked down at her phone to see that it was almost noon, she looked at the officers in confusion, “I was talking to Thatcher, I called the police and he talked to me for an hour, longer than that…” She said, “When did the power come on?” She asked, looking around in confusion.

“We got a noise complaint… What did you call for again?” One of the officers asked stepping into the elevator as Cynthia stepped out.

“The power went out and the elevator stopped… I was on the phone with Thatcher, he said he sent some police and firefighters out for me, I was just talking to him…” Cynthia said.

“I wasn’t aware of any power outage in the building, what is your name?” His partner asked.

“Cynthia Brookes… I was talking to Thatcher” She repeated.

One of the officers turned on his radio, “Heya Beverly, know of anyone by the name of Thatcher? Would have been one of our emergency operators…” He said.

“You mean Billy Thatcher? The boy that died?” His partner said, “The only Thatcher I know of is Billy Thatcher, dead of winter in 1995, Friday the 13th, he was waiting for his momma to pick him up and some bullies chased him home, he ran into the elevator for safety and well, the boys who were bullying him destroyed the panel with tools and broke the elevator, they found his body months later…” He explained.

“Officer Torrance, we don’t have a Thatcher on file,” The lady said over the radio.

“Sorry I haven’t got much sleep, just moved in, the tenth floor…” Cynthia uttered, slowly backing away from the elevator, “I’ll take the stairs this time, sorry to bother you…” She apologized, she bid them goodbye, and watched the elevator doors closed. Cynthia took in a few deep breaths and shakily let them out. She looked down at her cell phone and checked her call records and it was completely empty as if it had been erased, she shook her head, she hadn’t got much sleep throughout the week and she thought maybe that her mind was playing tricks on her; Cynthia turned to find the door to the staircase when a painting caught her attention, it was the painting she had seen before. Now the woman surrounded by statues blanketed in white sheets was surrounded by statues that were reaching out to her, all painted with angry and demonic expressions.