Blue

The elevator ride to the 7th floor feels like an eternity. She usually takes the stairs to her cubicle, but today, the stairs are closed off for maintenance again. If she went home one more time, she’d be fired. She can’t lose another job.

She stands there alone in the elevator, trembling. The beating of her heart increases quickly with each passing second.

Blue. It surrounds her from all sides. Blue walls, a Blue floor, a Blue ceiling; there’s no escaping it. She tries to close her eyes and take herself somewhere else, somewhere happier, somewhere void of Blue. Fishing with her father. Her first kiss. Her 10th grade prom. She wore a beautiful Blue gown to that prom. She tries to take herself to times when the color didn’t control nearly every aspect of her life.

She feels the elevator stop, and a wave of relief washes over her. She opens her eyes and looks up, focusing on the floor number above the door. She’s only at the 4th floor. Disappointed, she closes her eyes once more and waits. The elevator doors open with a gentle ding, and she hears the steady muted thump of loafers against the Blue carpet making its way towards her. The footsteps stop next to her. The trembling coursing throughout her body only grows worse and worse. She tries once more to block out everything and bring herself back to happier times, but the presence of the man to her right made it impossible. Being alone in such a small and unsupervised area with a man who could easily overpower her filled her with fear. All she could do is wait.

“Beautiful day, huh?” The man says, his voice deep and intimidating. She opens her eyes and focuses on the grey elevator doors, attempting still to block out the Blue that surrounds her.

“Oh, yes. Gorgeous.” She tries to calm the shakiness in her voice.

“Perfect weather for a nice hike.” The man says. She pauses and carefully thinks about what to say next. She fears that saying one wrong thing would set the man off.

“There aren’t a lot of mountains to hike around New York City,” she says, feigning interest.

“Bear Mountain is only an hour and a half away. I’ve hiked it a few times, but the view never gets old.” He pauses for a moment. “You can see the entire park from up there.”

She remembers when she wasn’t afraid to go outside alone. She used to hike wherever she could every weekend. She would hike Mount Mansfield in Vermont and sit at the summit for hours, catching up on her reading and writing short stories. She hasn’t touched her writing journal in years.

“My name’s Patrick,” he says after a few seconds, “Patrick Quimby.”

“Sarah Knowles.”

This man seems different than other men that she’s had the displeasure of interacting with in the past.. His voice is stern, but still charismatic and friendly at the same time. She finally works up the courage to open her eyes and look at the man, a friendly and genuine smile spread across her face. She prepared to extend her hand to shake his.

“It’s a pleasure to meet--”

She stops.

Everything stops.

A Blue suit.

“Is everything alright, Mrs. Knowles?” Patrick says. A sharp pain appears in Sarah’s chest. She backs up into the elevators corner and slides down to the floor, hyperventilating and wheezing, tears flowing down her cheeks. The man takes a step towards her.

“Mrs. Knowles? Are you--”

“Get the fuck away from me!” She screams.

“I don’t--”

“Please!” She screams again, her voice shaky from the violent sobbing. She’s taken back to 3 years ago, walking home from her friend’s house at 2 in the morning. The hand that covered her mouth and dragged her away from the street. The sound of duct tape. The ripping of her clothes. Her muffled sobbing. It replays in her mind on a constant loop, over and over.

The gentle ding fills the small space as the elevator doors open, the thump of Patrick Quimby’s loafers quickly fading off into the distance. She looks up, wiping the tears from her eyes.

The 7th floor.