TRAPPED BETWEEN FLOORS
ALM No.94, October 2026
SHORT STORIES
The scent of vanilla drifted through my bedroom as the first rays of sunlight peeked through the curtains. I stretched my arms wide and let out a yawn before blowing out the candle that had burned through the night.
"I can't believe today is the day," I whispered.
A knot formed in my stomach at the thought of spending time with my sister, Rachel.
Rachel and I had never gotten along. Where I was compassionate and open-minded, Rachel was blunt and often harsh. No matter how hard I tried to understand her, our conversations almost always ended in arguments.
I dragged myself out of bed and into the bathroom. The cold tile sent a chill through my feet as I switched on the light. A blast of air from the AC brushed against my skin, making me shiver.
As I brushed my teeth, I stared at my reflection.
Why did I agree to this? The answer was simple.
Mom.
She had begged us to attend family counseling together.
After getting dressed and making my bed, I headed downstairs and out the door. The crisp morning air filled my lungs as I climbed into my truck.
Before starting the engine, I bowed my head.
"Lord, thank You for waking me up today. Thank You for Your grace and mercy. Please be with me while Rachel and I meet with this counselor. Give us patience and understanding. Amen." The drive felt shorter than usual.
When I arrived, I noticed the counselor's office was on the tenth floor.
"Well," I muttered nervously, "it's too late to back out now." I walked into the building and stepped into the elevator.
Just as the doors began to close, a voice echoed down the hallway.
"Excuse me! Can you hold the elevator?"
"Absolutely," I replied.
As the doors reopened, my heart sank.
Rachel.
She stepped inside and folded her arms.
"Look," she said, avoiding eye contact, "I don't want to be here anymore than you do. We're only here because we promised
Mom."
"Oh, please. All you want to do is argue." Before she could respond, the elevator suddenly jerked.
The lights flickered.
Then everything stopped.
Rachel and I exchanged glances.
"Did you press the button?" I asked.
"Of course I pressed the button."
A heavy silence filled the elevator.
"Rachel..."
"What?"
"Are we stuck?"
The realization hit us both at the same time.
"Oh, my goodness," I said, immediately pressing the emergency call button. "Please don't tell me we're stuck in an elevator." Static crackled over the speaker.
No response.
"Great," Rachel groaned.
The metal walls suddenly felt smaller. The air felt warmer. My pulse quickened.
"If you think someone is coming to rescue us immediately, you're dreaming," Rachel said.
I sighed.
"Well, since we're trapped, maybe we should talk." Rachel laughed. "Isn't that why we're here?" I took a deep breath.
"Why do you hate me so much, Rachel?" Her expression changed instantly.
"What?"
"Why are you always insulting me? Why do you say such hurtful things? I've always supported you. I helped promote your business.
I've encouraged you when nobody else did. I don't understand why you treat me the way you do."
Rachel leaned against the wall and stared at the floor.
"It's not that I hate you."
"Then what is it?"
"I want you to do better." I shook my head.
"Calling me stupid isn't helping me do better." Rachel looked away.
"You called me a terrible mother," I continued. "You involved Naomi in issues that had nothing to do with her. Do you have any idea how much that hurts me?"
The elevator was silent except for our breathing.
Finally, Rachel spoke.
"I'm not perfect, Raven."
"No one asked you to be." Her shoulders slumped.
"I know I say things that are hurtful. Sometimes I'm angry.
Sometimes I'm frustrated. But I don't hate you."
I crossed my arms.
"Then why does it feel like you do?"
For the first time, Rachel's eyes filled with tears.
"Because I'm jealous."
The words hung in the air.
My mouth felt open.
"What?"
Rachel wiped her face.
"You always make people feel loved. Mom. Naomi. Everyone around you. No matter what life throws at you, you keep showing up for people." I stared at her.
"I've spent years trying to prove my worth through money and achievements. Paying for gymnastics. Helping Mom with bills. Throwing parties. But you..." She shook her head. "People love you because of who you are."
The anger I'd carried for years began to soften.
"Rachel..."
"I know I've hurt you. I know I've crossed lines that shouldn't have been crossed." She looked at me with watery eyes. "And I'm sorry."
I could hear the sincerity in her voice.
For the first time in years.
The elevator suddenly jolted.
The lights steadily.
A voice crackled through the speaker.
"Maintenance has restored power. The elevator should be moving shortly."
Neither of us spoke.
A few moments later, the elevator began rising again.
As the doors opened onto the tenth floor, Rachel turned toward me.
"I know I don't deserve it," she said quietly, "but I hope someday you can forgive me."
I looked at my sister, really looked at her.
The anger was gone. The walls between us were beginning to crack.
"I can't promise that today," I said. "But it's a start."
Rachel smiled.
And for the first time in a very long time, so did I.
As we stepped off the elevator together, I realized that sometimes the only way to heal and move forward is to run towards difficult conversations.
Raven Linton-Greer: I grew up in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, and I have always loved writing and creating my own stories and poems. I am currently a student at Full Sail University pursuing a Bachelor of Science degree in Media Communications. When I am not writing, I enjoy spending time with my husband and children and participating in family activities.
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