The Untold

2

6pm.

Another meaningless day of work complete. The deal that would give the company an extra boost was done and dusted, much like her soul. Her boss had called her in minutes before it was time to head home and unleashed a shit ton of new responsibilities onto her already overflowing plate. At the rate that she was working herself, she would most certainly never regain ownership of her time. With a begrudgingly long intake of o2 she snapped back into the present and made her way out of the 12th floor hallway and towards her knight in shining armour, the elevator. The click clacks of her heels echoed throughout the space as she hastily made her way through the now quiet reception area of that floor. The con to having these extra responsibilities, among many others, was the fact that most of the staff had already been dismissed for the day and she was left behind along with the other miniscule employees trying to make their big break by pushing themselves to the "limits". As admirable as it was to be so dedicated to one's work, she had to stifle a scoff since she knew the only way up in this industry was through connections or through the gap between a person's thighs. These people took the saying 'climbing the corporate ladder' to a new extreme. Luckily, she obtained her post as senior leader of her team before corrupt office politics took centre stage.

One last glance at the basically empty office and she was in the elevator, ready to head home and soak herself in a scalding bath. Maybe that would act as a distraction from this mind-numbing life that she had been blessed with.

She watched the numbers drop from 12, 11, 10, 9, 8, and then it stopped.

7th floor. The doors opened and much to her surprise no one was waiting to step onto the elevator with her. Odd but not uncommon to happen. She was aware of the building's faulty elevator systems that would act up at random. Just her luck it happened to be at the time when the building was basically a ghost town.

The doors shut and she continued to watch the numbers descend. Just before it reached the 3rd floor, the metal doors dragged open once again. This time someone was standing in front of the elevator and shit... it sure sent her heart plummeting to her ass. It was the same man and unlike the previous day she was able to get a quick glimpse of his face before he stepped into her space once again.

The elevator doors shut, and she must consciously remind herself not to breathe like a maniac. She steadied her breathing by focusing on the promised ding that came with the descending of each floor.

Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. That was besides her paranoia that seemed to fog up the metal cube. To another it would seem as if it were just two regular strangers sharing an elevator ride, but to her if felt strained. She knew when she was being irrational, and she knew when her gut was screaming at her to listen to it for once. The last time she chose to ignore her gut, she got struck with a heap of misfortune. Granted it was a bit later in the day and she stupidly decided against her better judgment to go for an afternoon jog. Now considering that the area in which she resided was not the safest on the map, that should've been the first indication that her gut was correct to tell her to stay put in her house. But no, damn the unspoken rules constructed by society that bound a woman to the house after a particular time of the day had passed. She decided she would not let the fear of being a woman control her actions. Stupidly enough she thought she would have a peaceful breath of fresh air. After being Braveheart and getting catcalled and chased halfway down the street, a road away from her residence. She decided that next time her gut told her that staying in and bumming it out on the couch to useless TV programming was better, she would gladly listen.

Much like before she got the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, that made her ears start to zing and her fingertips start to itch.

Piercing green eyes. That's it. The only thing that she remembered of the seemingly normal individual standing a few feet away from her. Normally she wouldn't judge people based off a few encounters, but once again, her gut was basically screaming at her to be alert.

Just like the previous day the elevator doors dinged open, and the strange man exited on cue. This time she frantically pushed the button for the 2nd floor since the maintenance man, Steve oversaw that floor. Luckily for her she and Steve seemed to be on good terms as she helped him out a numerous number of times when his nine-year-old daughter, Tilly, needed some lady advice. Unfortunately for Steve, Tilly was left motherless due to a drunk driver's horrid mistake. Fazing back into her thoughts, she watched the elevator doors closing. Her anxiety rising as the gap between the doors got smaller and smaller. Almost as if they were about to open just before shutting. A sigh of relief echoed throughout the empty space as the doors successfully closed. What was she expecting? For the man to suddenly appear and step back into the elevator with her and confirm her anxious thoughts. Honestly, she exasperated herself at times. More often than she would have like to admit.

Stepping out onto the 2nd floor she spotted Steve immediately. They exchanged a few words, mostly small talk after the obvious questioning of what she was doing on this  floor at this time of day. After hastily explaining that she thought she misplaced her car keys but then miraculously finding it, Steve insisted on walking her to her car. She felt a sense of reassurance when he offered and initially, she declined. Seriously how would it look if she were to agree immediately. Her lie about misplacing her car keys saved her from looking like a complete psycho maniac. The thought of anyone at her work seeing her as she saw herself was enough to cause a wave of nausea to flush over herself for a few seconds. Still, she composed herself internally and allowed Steve to escort her to her car. After biding him goodbye, she drove out from the underground garage and onto the streets.

Was it dramatic of her to feel a sense of relief as soon as she made the turn departing from her work building? Maybe, but she couldn't care less as her anxious thoughts vanished and was replaced with thoughts of food. Starving. That's what she kept repeating to herself as she approached her favourite Chinese restaurant.