Red Writing Hood: The Confrontation

Amy stood at the far end of the bank of elevators. It was only noon and she was ready to call it a day. Why did she stay in this environment? Every day a little bit more of her soul was sucked from her. Every day she felt the despair pull her deeper into the abyss.

A faint *ping* drew her attention to the elevators. The far door was opening so she walked quickly to the other end. It was already full but she didn’t care. She needed to get out of here and would willingly endure the claustrophobic ride down 20 flights. The smell of warm, perspiring bodies assaulted her senses and she felt herself gag slightly.

The elevator began its downward descent, stopping at 3 other floors and allowing the other passengers to get off. Amy mentally shrugged off the feeling of contamination from everyone else’s body odor and hot, cloying breath. Someone on the elevator had eaten an onion garlic bagel and the fragrance lingered. She turned slightly to lean back against the wall of the elevator and realized she wasn’t completely alone.

A solitary woman was looking into the mirrored wall of the elevator and reapplying her lipstick with a practiced hand. She had a classic beauty that really needed no embellishment but she was the type who never left the house without her face fully made up. Amy’s hand involuntarily moved up to lightly touch her own bare lips before she forcefully brought it back down to her side. She reminded herself that she didn’t need make-up…unfortunately her thought dissipated as she realized exactly who she was sharing an elevator with.

Her. The anger that Amy kept buried deep inside began to bubble up. Of all the people to be in an elevator with on today, of all days…She took a deep breath and prepared to ignore her companion for the remainder of the ride.

Amy’s intake of breath caused the woman to look into the mirror to survey her fellow passenger. Her lips curled into a small smile of contempt.

“Why, hello Amy” she said as she turned to face her. “I didn’t…notice you there.” The woman’s smile curved into a wider Cheshire grin. Amy felt her cheeks grow hot and she tried to steel herself against the coming onslaught of insults. Unfortunately her adversary was extremely perceptive and prepared to move in for the kill.

Abruptly the elevator lurched to a stop and the lights went dark. Amy pressed herself against the wall to steady her suddenly shaking legs. She glanced up and was momentarily blinded as the emergency spot light came on. She looked away and tried to clear her vision. The sound of gasping caused her to look across the elevator.

The woman had collapsed into a ball on the floor and was struggling to breathe. Clearly she suffered from feelings of claustrophobia once the elevator ceased to move. Amy felt a tiny bubble of compassion build. She took a tentative step forward and mumbled,

“I’m sure it will start moving again soon”

The woman glared at her and snarled,

“You’re pathetic. Don’t even come near me you worthless bitch.”

The bubble burst and Amy felt the anger sweep over her.

“I was trying to be nice. Can’t you recognize any emotion that isn’t linked to pain or suffering? How the hell do you even live with yourself? Is your entire existence structured around your need to be a bully, to be feared? Well, how does it feel now? How do those feelings of absolute terror feel? Is your heart beating so fast you fear it might jump out of your chest? Do you feel clammy and nauseous?  Are images of this elevator plummeting to the ground, crushing us both, filling your head?”

Amy paused, her body shaking with fury. The woman looked at her in shock.

“What is your problem? Why are you being so nasty?”

“Me? You are accusing ME of being nasty? You, who has striven to make every.single. day. a living hell for me ever since I started working here? YOU are accusing ME??!!” Amy shrieked. The woman visibly recoiled at the verbal assault. But Amy was just getting warmed up.

“You have undercut me, stolen my ideas, spread rumors, made snide remarks…if there was a negative action to take against me, you took it. No one will speak to me unless they have to. All the interesting projects are passed on to people much lower in position than me. My boss gives me these looks that I couldn’t explain until I overheard someone repeating a vicious lie that YOU started. I know it was you, “Amy cut her off before she could try to speak, “I’m not as stupid as you think. I listen, I observe…”

Amy paused, wondering if she should give up all her cards. Mentally she shrugged. She’d gone this far, she might as well go all the way.

“You should probably learn to lock your computer when you leave your desk.”

Amy turned away from her adversary and stared into the mirror. The woman just stood there, dumbfounded by Amy’s accusations. The expression on her face caused the anger to surge forward again. She whipped around and attacked with the viciousness of a cornered rattlesnake.

“Seriously? This is the expression you have after all that? Has no one has EVER dared confront you? Are you that much of a vicious bitch that no one has ever stood up to your callous manipulations? Do you even realize the pain you cause people? Lives are ruined by people like you and you just don’t give a damn. All you can think about is yourself and how you can use someone to move your own agenda forward. To what end? I doubt I was the first…perhaps I should be the last.”

At that, the woman’s expression turned from confusion to fear. She could see the subtle change in Amy’s eye, recognized the nuances of her ragged emotional outburst. She had spent her entire life figuring out the weaknesses of others and using them to her own advantage. Amy’s comment was all too accurate. No one had ever dared to confront her, stand up to her, put her in her place. She’d used her beauty and cunning as a weapon, deftly cutting through the corporate bureaucracy to rise far higher than she ever could legitimately. And today, she could sense it all crashing down around her.

***

It took technicians over 6 hours to get the elevator stuck between the 5^th and 4^th floors moving again. When the doors finally opened in the lobby they found a woman crumpled on the floor with “NEVER AGAIN” written in bright red lipstick across the mirrored walls. Someone in the crowd identified her as Abigail Lawrence, from Corporate Accounts.

She never woke from her coma.

This post is part of the Red Writing Hood. This week the challenge was to “Think of a person you don’t like, and describe what you might say if you had to share an elevator ride together. Then describe what happens when the elevator breaks down. For six hours.”