The Sixth Floor

The ever-elusive sixth floor... I had finally reached it. My hopes, dreams, my now sole-purpose in life had been fulfilled. I slowly and methodically moved my hand over the button in the elevator, cautious of the recent re-appearance of the six, then I pressed it.

Slowly, the digital display panel revealed an ever-increasing digit, ominously placed in the center of the display and a despairing, almost blood colored light illuminating the elevator. As the small box I was in moved, everything around me seemed to slow to a crawl. The air was rank, musty, metallic. I felt as though I were in a moving, over-sized coffin, riding an electrical hearse to my freshly dug grave. A grave dug with my own two hands. I began to smell my own fear rising I rose another floor, and only one thought began to take control of my mind. "Hit the other button!"

I still had the opportunity to hit the fifth floor button, true, but every part of my body wanted to find out what was on the sixth floor. My mind wanted to stop, to defy the urge that curiosity placed in my way, to forget about ever seeing that stupid button, but my body was stronger.

I continued the journey to the glowing four, then watched it disappear into apparent oblivion, shortly having its redundant position replaced by a similar five. The moment, frozen in time, revealed to me every aspect of my being, similar to the effect of the cliché. My life literally flashed before my eyes, then stopped on that brilliant and beautiful five, stuck on my last chance of escape. Then it too disappeared into that endless series of circuits, and the elevator continued to the next floor.

The noise was unbearable. The screeching sound of the "arrived-at-floor" bell, made me want to claw my way through the very walls it was originating from. A single "ding" that could very well signal my desperate and imminent end...then it stopped. The only thing I could hear was the soft bump of my heart beating furiously against my chest. I looked around and realized I was sitting, backed up into a corner as far as I could get away from that door.

It opened. Not quickly, not slowly, but just as it did on every other floor. The room was dark. So dark, in fact, that it appeared to suck the very light from the elevator. My heart rate increased, then the sudden realization that I wasn't dead hit me smack in the face as I stood up and took an adventurous step toward the gaping hole. I was still breathing, shallow though. I squinted and tried to see more, but with no success, so I risked another step.

Breathing was getting more difficult, as if the room, no, the entire universe as I knew it was going to try and eradicate me from existence. To try and remove me from all knowledge and space. I held my breath, waiting to see if this blackness was going to make its move, but it was suddenly replaced by a bright and beautiful light, and all fear was replaced by pleasure, all doubt was replaced by security, and I wanted to run toward the light. I tried to move, but I couldn't. I wanted to go forward, but I was being pulled back by an invisible hand. The light moved, and behind it was a white ceiling.

Ceiling...ceiling... The word echoed in my head. Why on earth would I be seeing a ceiling, where I should be seeing, if nothing else were there, a wall? The nurse taking care of me turned to place her light back into the little pocket it owned on her scrubs. I turned my head the other direction, and a young woman I seemed to recognize was sitting next to me, holding my hand in hers and shedding tears over them.

"Thank you," I said with a voice barely louder than a whisper. Her head jerked up, and those amazing eyes, surrounded by water and in need of comfort, called to me. She threw herself over me and I stroked her long hair and ran my hand across her back. I then popped the question that was shaking my mind, "What happened to me?" She wiped her eyes and smiled, answering with a light choke, "Don't worry about it. We're together now."