Stuck in the Elevator

The elevator of the ancient red brick hospital looked like an Otis original. It was old as dust, but it got you to your floor – usually.

I entered, allowing a lady to enter first. We performed the usual elevator ritual among strangers – look at the floor, look at the level indicator, but at all costs, avoid talking or making eye contact. The slim pre-middle aged lady added the additional step of perusing a book she carried.

The buttons for the third and fifth floor lit as our respective destinations. The elevator grunted to a stop, and the doors opened to reveal a wall of red brick. We were stuck between floors.

The shiver started in my heels, clamored up my back - I felt my hair vibrate. The air went cold, I lost my colour. For the sake of the lady on board, I dared not show my fear. I sauntered to the row of buttons next to the open door, and touched the red button labeled “alarm”. The bell roared for the single second that my finger pressed, and stopped when I released.

The lady furrowed her brow at me, “What are you doing?” She wasn’t impressed with my rescue plan.

“We appear to be stuck between floors, I was just signaling for help.” I mumbled in reply.

She stomped over to the panel, pushed the door close button and pressed the already lit button for the third floor. The door slapped shut and the little room jerked upward. The door again opened, but this time, a long hallway greeted us. The lady strolled out, another couple people entered. I continued to my fifth floor destination. The door opened and I entered the fifth floor hall. A tinge of the shakes followed me, as I left my iron prison.

(300 words)

5/19 Entry for "Daily Flash Fiction Challenge" 
Prompt: write a story about being stuck in an elevator