Elevator

Chapter 3

I couldn't stop crying. And, the worst part is, is that I'm not a cryer.

My boyfriend could die because of me, and because of some stupid prankster in an ELEVATOR.

I mean, really.

Anywhere but an elevator. We can't protect ourselves in there. There's nowhere to run but our death. We're completely vulnerable.

I sighed, and finally got up from my bed and walked downstairs. I fixed myself some cheese noodles and opened a fresh jar of sweet, brown, Nutella. I stuck a spoon into it, maybe a little too hard, because the Nutella came splattering on me.

Great. My day is going just great.

I grunted.

I walked to the kitchen. Left foot, right foot. Repeat. Easy walking. Then for some reason the pattern got messed up.

Left-ra-right-right-right-le-FALL.

I fell flat on my face.

"Hahahahaha. Clumsy, clumsy Jasmine", said a voice.

What the..?

I turned around to see my older brother Mike standing at the door, trying not to laugh.

"Miiiiiiikeeee!!!!", I yelled, leaping into my brothers arms.

"Hey. You're getting Nutella on me", he joked.

I ignored his comment.

"Where have you been for the past week?!", I asked.

His face paled.

"Um, nowhere", he said, his face soon turning back into that happy blushed smile, "Anyway, it's about you! Not me! How have you been?!"

Okaaaay then.

"Fine, I guess", I lied. After a few unsure seconds, I couldn't hide my pain and guiltiness.

And I told him what happened.

By the time I finished his jaw was dropped reeeaaaal low.

"Geez.. I wonder who did it...", he said, his hazel eyes wide.

"Well, they aren't sure it's a murder. You see, there was a few witnesses on the outside of the elevator. They said Terry walked in, then tried coming out. But the doors forcefully shut, and then there was eerily silence."

"Well that's a big piece of evidence. That shows that he was probably scared of something, or someone, right? Then he tried coming out, but the doors shut, and BAM. He is almost dead", my brother breathed out.

I shivered. The whole thought of it was scary. A murderer, right here in Aurora. Catching victims in elevators, poor, helpless, and alone. I would have to investigate. Maybe I'd walk in with a gun, for self defense. Or something.

Mike read my mind.

"No, no, no sissy. I know you. You want to go in there and investigate", he said, making quotes in the air while stretching out the word in-ves-ti-gate.

"What the, no, I am not," I said, not convincing enough.

He stared into my eyes, and I stared back into his. I was good at this. I used to play poker with my old uncle back in floria every weekend. Him and his friends had always commented on my amazing poker face. They say I'm like Kristen Stewart.

"Jasmine, just stay away from that elevator, okay? I don't want you getting hurt. And keep in mind that Terry wouldn't want that either", he said, shaking his finger at me.

I didn't like how he brought up Terry in that matter.

"Whatever", I muttered.

"No. No whatever's. tell me you won't go near that elevator. Don't even go into the fire tower. Scratch that. Don't go into downtown Aurora, okay?", he said.

Seriously?!?!

"What the hell!! You can't just stop me from going into Aurora! Terry has to stay in the hospital there!' MIKE?!! MIKE!!!", I yelled.

"You can only go to see Terry. But I'll be contacting the doctors and employees around town to keep an eye on you, and make sure you don't go anywhere but the hospital. Got it?"

I didn't say anything. How could he do this to me? I was almost 18. Almost free. I swear, when I'm 18, and him, mum or pa try to get me to do something, ill shake my finger at them and say: 'Dobby is a free elf now. Dobby has no master'.

I ran up to my room, and collapsed onto my bed to see a sleeping furball on my bed. I smiled at my cat, and pet Stanley until he fell asleep, and until I fell asleep myself.