Fear Of Elevators Novels & Stories

After returning their smiles, I got into the elevator with Emily. I felt my body physically vibrating, my heart beat accelerating and my mind in a fuzzy. But Emily held onto my arm and I was glad she did. I didn't trust myself to not collapse with all the fears. The elevator stopped to drop some people a couple of times, and each time we made the stop, fear paralyzed me. Fear that the doors might slide open and Logan would be standing right there, waiting to grab me. My heart nearly leaped out of my chest through out the ride and I was able to keep it down there when we stepped out at the underground garage.

I tense knowing I’ve said the wrong thing. “You know that nervousness is a waste of energy. Nervousness, fear, anxiety- these all weaken us. These emotions make us doubt ourselves. There’s no room for doubt right now. Are you uncertain that you will win tomorrow?” He asks me. His voice is calm; he’s always calm. He never wavers. Even when he is enraged, he is composed. That’s what makes him so easy to fear. He’s consistent, yet unreadable. In the twelve years that I’ve known him, I’ve learned his mannerisms and his preferences, but I never assume I truly know him. And everyone that I’ve brought in over the years, I make sure they know that too. He hates arrogance but demands confidence. He w

I remained silent and watched him press the 40th floor. My eyes widened. 'He lives on the 40th floor?' Anxiety gripped my stomach. Actually, I am used to living on the ground and my office isn't on the top floor either. The second, doors closed and the elevator started to move up, I immediately put my hand on the wall for support. My stomach felt funny, like I was on some ride in an amusement park. "Are you scared of heights?" He looked at me deeply and held the other hand. "Yeah." My throat dried up.

It was something at least. I tried not to think as he pressed the button to the very last floor. We stood side by side as the elevator creaked and took us to the desired floor. My heart wasn’t even beating fast. My fear had frozen everything inside of me. I was incapable of feeling anything anymore. I just wanted whatever this was to be done.

“Not very many people do. It’s something I keep close to my chest.” “Oh no,” Dillon said. “The elevator. That must have…” his voice trailed off. He’d put two and two together. I didn’t even need to tell him. The elevator incident earlier that day had triggered some of my old fears. That’s why I’d been so scared. “That must have been awful,” Dillon replied. “Being all alone like that in the elevator.”

I looked like a man walking into something he might not walk out of. The feeling of unease settled in the pit of my stomach, growing heavier with each passing second. The soft hum of the elevator's motor seemed to mock me, as if it knew the uncertainty that lay ahead. I tried to shake off the sense of foreboding, reminding myself that I had a job to do, a mission to complete. But as the elevator finally reached the ground floor and the doors slid open with a hiss, I couldn't help but wonder if I was walking into a trap.

It seems like the Desire Pack respects the saying, bigger is better. "We need to get to the eighteenth floor," Jasper tells me, making me frown. That is high up...Am I afraid of heights? I mean, there has never been a time in my life where I have had to consider such a fear, so maybe not. Luckily, Jasper reassured me that there would be an elevator, instead of stairs.

The first time he'd looked at me without that cold, distant expression he'd been wearing like a armor. "I'm sorry," I whispered, my voice hoarse and broken. "I'm sorry, I'm so claustrophobic and pathetic—" "You're not pathetic," Nicholas said firmly, his hands still framing my face. "You're traumatized. There's a difference. What happened to your father was horrific. Being afraid of elevators after that is completely normal." He shifted slightly, moving to sit beside me on the cold elevator floor, his shoulder pressed against mine. Then he did something that made fresh tears spring to my eyes.

He then dragged me toward an open elevator, it was empty and already waiting for us. I watched Nico press a button so the elevator locked its door and started moving up. My eyes widened, “Okay, what is going on? Where are we, and what are we doing in this PLACE?” I started to panic. The reason I started to panic wasn’t because of this whole situation, it was because I’ve always had troubles with locked places, elevators specifically… Nico’s eyes narrowed when he noticed my reaction, “Relax, okay?” He stepped closer to me, but I couldn’t concentrate on whatever he was saying.

The cool night air struck my face like a slap, but it did nothing to settle the frantic pounding of my heart. I hurried towards the elevator. Normally, I avoided it because of some irrational fear I’d never quite managed to shake. But tonight, the thought of taking the stairs was unbearable. If someone heard me crying in the stairwell, they might mistake me for a ghost. Or worse—they might ask what was wrong. And I didn’t have an answer I could give. Inside the elevator, I wiped furiously at the tears slipping down my cheeks, trying desperately to piece myself back together before I reached my door.