"Who’s there?" I demanded, now
trembling, cold with fear. Then abruptly, the elevator surged
making a deep whir; the interior lights blinked on and it
continued down to the garage. With the interior lights now on, I
found myself still quite heart-poundingly alive. Still
squatting, crouched down in the corner of the stark elevator, I
was positively alone. Looking up, I scrutinized the ceiling to
see if the ceiling hatch was open or if there were evidence that
someone had entered and quickly exited. To my relief, but
further confusion, there was no hatch in this elevator. Nobody
could have gotten in or out.
The elevator descended slowly and normally.
Thereafter the doors opened at the garage floor. Noticeably
shaken by the episode, I crept out of the elevator and slowly
peeked around the corners, half expecting someone to leap out at
me. At the same time, I also prayed that nobody would be there
to observe my embarrassing state of quasi-panic. All clear –
whew. Straightening my tie, I took a deep breath and walked
briskly to my car. Everything appeared normal. Several people
were nonchalantly getting in and out of their cars, totally
oblivious to me and my quandary. And the elevator – the
elevator seemed to be working perfectly again.
Maybe I just imagined the whole thing; I’d
heard that the mind was capable of creating lifelike
hallucinations when one is hysterical with fear. Maybe I had
suffered an auditory hallucination when I thought that the
elevator was going to fall. Maybe something was triggered when I
clobbered myself in the head with my briefcase, who knows. Yeah,
that must have been it … I was certainly not one to believe
that I was hearing voices for no evident reason, and I wasn’t
going to listen to some kind of ghost – no matter how
authentic he sounded.
"Nothing is going to happen," I
heard it plain as day, "unless you make it happen."
Just a one-time panic attack. That was a sufficient enough
explanation for me.
