Oubliette

A very short story about a very thoughtless woman.

Sadie entered the small foyer, anxiety rising.

I don’t know why I come here, I must just like to make things hard on myself, just like my therapist said.

The squeak of her sneakers echoed on the tiled floor. Walking straight past the elevators, she struggled against her claustrophobia. Just being near them made her feel panicky. In fact she was already feeling light headed. Her massage clinic was on the sixth floor and she must, she must get up there without a panic attack.

Frowning as she approached the stairs, the lesser of two evils, she pushed open the heavy blue door. Stepping through, she looked at the grey stairs with their yellow safety lines and felt her heart rate jump. The door clicked shut behind her. The sound, with nowhere else to go, echoed up and down the cement tower.

Christ, I’m not even climbing them yet. The door had better be open at the top.

She began to climb.  Getting to level one was okay. She gripped the steel railing as she went, trying to control the shaky feeling creeping into her limbs, undermining her. She reached the first landing and turned to the second level.

Okay, only five to go.

She continued to climb until she had reached the third floor, where she made her first mistake: looking down. The drop to the bottom was a dizzying chasm waiting to swallow her up.

F**k f**k f**k. This is not better than the elevator! What the hell was I thinking? What if I get stuck in here?

She looked up at the next flight of stairs. The fourth one. Struggling to summon the techniques her therapist had taught her, she took a deep breath, paying attention to the way it filled her lungs and diaphragm. She didn’t even really know what a diaphragm was, but the breathing exercise slowed her mind down a bit. Shakily, tentatively, moving forwards, she took the first stair. It felt like she was in an interminable grey world, no escape. Only stairs, endless stairs. She took the second, then the third, all the way to the tenth. The fourth landing! She had done it! Only two to go!

Don’t look down, deep breath in, one, two, hold, exhale…

Her sweaty hand pulled her up the railing of the fifth flight while she focused on each step to ensure her shaky feet didn’t miss and send her falling backwards. By the fifth landing the knot in her stomach was so tight she half expected to have to lean over the railing and evict her half digested breakfast to the very bottom of the tower. But she kept on climbing.

Okay. Nearly there. The door will be open, it will be fine.

She swallowed and kept climbing. Four to go. Three, two, one, landing! Deep breath. She stood grasping the cold steel railing for dear life, fighting to catch her breath and steady her erratic heartbeat. Her ragged breathing began to slow and she stepped toward the door. Hand on the lever, she lowered it down. But less than a third of the way down it stopped, blocked by the lock. She tried again but no dice. She began frantically rattling it but to no avail.

F**k f**k f**k what am I gonna do?!

She leaned against the concrete wall and pulled her phone out of her jeans pocket. Starting to shake again, she brought up the clinic’s number and hit ‘call’. She waited for someone to pick up but no one did. She tried again. And again. Nothing.

What the f**k are they doing in there?!

She thought quickly about who was likely to be nearby at this time of day. She brought up another number and waited for her friend to answer, but again her call rang out. Her throat was tightening. Un-shed tears made it difficult to see through her panic. She brought up another friend’s number, and another, and another. Not a single answer. Now her battery was beginning to run low. Only one other person in her phone book was potentially nearby.

She brought the number up and hit ‘call’. A voice picked up on the second ring.

Oh thank f**k!

‘Hey!’ she said.

‘Hey. What’s going on?’

‘Actually, are you free? I kind of need help,’ she said.

‘You sound like you’re crying.’

‘I’m not crying,’ she gabbled into the phone. ‘But I do need help. Are you free or busy?’

‘Well, I’m not doing anything particularly urgent,’ he replied.

‘Great. I’m trapped in the stairwell of my massage clinic.’

‘…what?’

‘I’m trapped in the stairs, Ben! I need someone to come and let me out,’ she said.

‘Why are you calling me about this?’ he asked.

‘I tried calling the clinic three times and they didn’t answer, and then I tried to call Jenny, Michelle, and Roger, but no they didn’t answer either, so now-‘

‘-now you’re calling  me. Even though we haven’t spoken for two months,’ he said.

‘Well, yeah…I’m stuck, Ben! I need help! Are you seriously still going to be mad at me?’ she asked.

‘As a matter of fact, yes. Yes I am. Funnily enough, I am the kind of guy who stays mad when his girlfriend cheats with his best mate,’ he said.

Tears started to roll down Sadie’s cheeks.

‘Look, I’m sorry, okay? I just need you to come and get me out of here. My battery is going to die soon so can you just tell me if you’re going to help or not?’

‘Hmm. Where are you?’ He asked.

‘291 Russell street, South Yarra,’ she said.

‘And you said you’ve tried calling them?’ he asked.

‘Yes, three f*****g times! I don’t know what the hell they’re doing up there!’ she replied. ‘S**t. That was my phone beeping, I think it’s going to die in a minute. Promise me you’ll come and help me?’

‘You know what? I don’t promise that. I don’t promise a f*****g thing. I think I’m going to leave you in there,’ he said.

‘What?! God, you can’t be serious?’ she shrieked.

‘I’m deadly f*****g serious. You completely deserve it. Funny how you called me before you called him, isn’t it? I guess it just wasn’t meant to be between you two. But hell, you’ve got plenty of time to think about that now, don’t-‘ beep beep beep.

Sadie lowered the phone from her ear and stared at it, sobbing and gulping. It was dead. She was alone. No one else knew where she was. Both the doors were locked. She could already feel the oxygen thinning. She couldn’t see straight. She slid down the sweaty cold wall onto the concrete floor. There were no windows, no clocks. She was alone.