Previous Challenge Entry (Level 4 – Masters)
Topic: Funny (10/04/12)
TITLE: Bragging Rights
By Sara Harricharan
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ADD TO MY FAVORITES
No, I’m serious, they really do.
The best way of handling Mondays is kind of sleeping in. You know, turn over in bed, pull the covers over your head and just pretend that it’s still Sunday night, or maybe, you know, Tuesday.
Yeah, Tuesdays aren’t bad.
Unless nothing happened on Monday and then you realize that Monday has to make up for it somehow.
I really hate it when that happens.
Especially since I’m stuck in an elevator right now.
I swear, these things only happen to me. Last week, it was a flat tire. The week before, every ATM in town was “undergoing maintenance” and the week before that? Well, let’s just say that I own a pair of honest-to-farmer-style rain boots now.
They’re murder to walk in and the living death to walk without.
But back to the elevator.
See, I have this issue with boots in general, so sometimes, it’s the smarter option to skip the stairs. Fifteen steps twice, makes thirty altogether and if you’re a little hyper, you won’t even break a sweat, unless you’re wearing boots.
Then it’s just self-torture.
Mostly, it’s fun being inside a lovely silver box that carries you up to the next floor without a single complaint. It’s like floating. Almost as good as retail therapy.
I actually made it up to the second floor before the freakiness started. The door opened halfway, shuddered and then stopped.
Somehow, it returned to the ground floor, but still remained intent on keeping me prisoner. The crack in the door was big enough to stick your hand through and small enough to remind you how trapped you are.
The weirdness factor amps up when all the buttons glow and stuff starts sounding like Mrs. Gleason’s old food processor.
Except for the EMT’s and the Public Safety Officers trying to pry the doors open from outside, it’d be quiet in here. They’ve tried an axe so far, two different crowbars and they broke an elevator key.
I didn’t know you could break one of those.
Now they’ve cut the power.
Silver’s turned to black and somehow this black isn’t dark enough. I’m out of candy and I don’t want to poke at my cellphone. I want a nap—outside.
It feels weird to be treating this so casually.
The light through the gap in the door isn’t bright enough, but the shadows are comforting.
“Jamie? Hey, stay with me, Sis.” Leona sidled closer, wrapping one arm around her kid sister. “They’re gonna get us out of here soon, okay? And next time, we can take the stairs. I’ll go slow. Promise.”
Pale blue eyes fixed on the concerned face hovering just beside her. Jamie curled into the proffered embrace, crossing her toes inside of the rubber rain boots. The carpeted elevator floor was cold and unforgiving. Her butt hurt, along with her stomach.
Leona frowned. There wasn’t a single vending machine anywhere in the building, meaning there was nothing anyone could bring for them. As it was, she’d much rather they spent the time trying to wrestle the doors open, rather than tracking down a package of peanut M&M’s.
“Jamie?” Leona’s brow furrowed into a knot. She reached over to feel the warm forehead. “Stay with me, kiddo.” She squeezed one pale hand as gently as she could.
Jamie’s eyes flickered around the silvery confines and then fixed on the sliver of dull light shining through the partially open elevator doors. Leona sucked in a deep breath and began to trace shapes that eventually became signed words in the palm of her sister’s hand.
Jamie’s only response was two angry tears trickling down her cheeks.
Leona sighed. “You are not bad luck!” She caught Jamie’s chin with one hand and turned her face up. “Read my lips. You are not bad luck. Not to me. Sometimes crazy stuff just happen. We have no control over it, but that doesn’t mean we have to give into it. We’re gonna be fine.”
Pale blue eyes pleaded silently once more and Leona finally released the trembling hands. A moment later, Jamie signed a few words.
“How long?” Leona snorted. “Over an hour, hour and a half, I’d say.”
More bangs and groans rattled through the elevator.
Leona nudged Jamie.
A single brow perked in question.
“Just think, now you can tell people you’ve actually been stuck in an elevator.”
Jamie elbowed her. Hard.
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