Taking The Initiative

• Elizabeth Evans, Grade 10
• Short Story
• 2011

My knee bumped rhythmically on the underside of my new desk. I nervously smoothed down my lavender blouse, glancing around at my fellow workers. It was my first day, but no one seemed to have noticed the new girl encroaching on their workplace.

Smoothing my hair back into its ponytail for the umpteenth time, I lowered my hands to hover over the keyboard. I carefully checked over what I was meant to write, before timidly pressing down the first key. Once the first sentence had been written, I relaxed the tension in my shoulders and settled into work.

A half hour later I had almost forgotten to by worried about what my new workmates thought of me, when I was startled out of my concentration by the blaring of an alarm. Jumping, so violently I almost fell out of my chair, I whipped my head back and forth to try and figure out what was happening.

No one else seemed particularly worried. A few shot glances at emergency exits and elevators, but no one stood. Heart beating wildly and ears ringing from the shrill alarm, I tucked my legs back under my desk and stared at the screen. However no matter how many times I looked at my worksheet the words wouldn’t process, my mind to busy arguing over the fact I was sitting still when an obvious warning alarm was sounding.

Standing up slightly out of my chair, I scanned the top of the cubicles, and studied the traffic at the elevator. Nothing was unusual, people coming and going like normal. I noticed the woman across from me grumbling to herself as she shoved her stationary and folders into her bag. Scowling at the other workers, she stood up and strode quickly towards the elevator.

“Doesn’t she know its just a drill?” the woman next to me said, laughing with her male companion as the watched the woman enter the elevator. “The boss won’t be happy to know she left three hours early.”

Swallowing thickly, coughing slightly as my saliva caught in my dry throat, I shakily typed another word into my document. It took me three times to get the spelling correct. Again I scanned over the office, to notice a man this time hurriedly exiting the room to the teasing yells of his friends.

Heart beating fiercely, I shakily got to my feet. The workers around me gave me amused looks. Sweat prickled uncomfortably across my skin as I gathered my things together and put them into my bag. Slinging the strap over my shoulder, I hurried towards the elevator, but changed my mind half-way and instead took the stairs. As I descended, I ran into frantic people and the air became hazy and thick. By the ground floor I was running from the building.

The third floor was on fire.