Elevator Panic

Palms sweating, heart drumming, I blasted out of my apartment and into the elevator. I slammed the lobby button multiple times- a stupid human idea that it would get them to the floor quicker.

Oh God, of all floors, why was in on the top one, floor 27?

As I descended, I heard the groan of metal under pressure. It may have been hysteria that made the elevator look smaller, but the crumples and ripples in the walls confirmed it. I was going to die, right here, in a matter of minutes.

I found myself slamming the backs of my fists against the doors of the metal trap and slowly starting to bleed.

Then I started kicking, and when I kicked at the wrong angle, something snapped. I fell to the green carpet as nausea danced in my head. My ankle made me scream in pain.

As I tried to stand, the top of my head slammed on the ceiling and I fell again. The top and bottom of the door were folded up like paper, ensuring my grim fate.

So I did the last thing possible- sob.

The End

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