As I walk into the hotel I avoid eye contact with any other person walking my direction. I have mastered walking with my head down. I walk in and take a small glance around the lobby, making sure I don’t stand out. I find what I’m looking for, the elevator. I need to get to the 17 floor. In room 1756, the rest of my future will be determined; I either have a successful life or a life full of disappointment. This meeting is everything.
Keeping my head down I walk in the direction of the elevator. I push the button summoning the elevator. I hear a Bing and see six feet pass my left side. I walk into the elevator and thankfully it is empty. I look up to see myself in a mirror; I quickly look the other direction and discover the elevator has mirrors for walls. I am terrified. I hate myself and every being of my existence.
I keep my head down in order to not have to look at myself; instead I try to concentrate on room 1756 and what it holds. The elevator starts to lift with a squeaky noise and flickering lights. This is literally the slowest elevator I have ever been on, I think to myself.
I’m about to reach the 10th floor when the elevator drops a little. The feeling of falling makes my stomach turn and I feel light headed. Then suddenly the elevator stops, the lights go out, and all I can see in the darkness is a red flashing light. The emergency lights kick in and stuck. The lights indicate I’m stuck in between the 13th and 14th floor. I start crying out for help.
“Help please! I’m stuck in here, please anyone!”
I don’t think anyone can hear me, I feel helpless. I start crying, the meeting is never going to happen, I’m never going to the person I plan to be. I look up and I look at myself, my mascara has smeared onto my face, I look worse then I normally do. I start panicking, the air seems to be running out, and everything seems to be moving too fast. 
“Someone please, help me!” I yell repeatedly. “Help please!”
I don’t know how long it’s been, I don’t know if anyone has noticed me being in hear stuck. I sit on the floor and look at myself. I hate myself. I hate the person I am and I always have. As I stare at myself I replay the words said by both my mother and father, you are worthless, ugly, stupid, and ignorant, you are a hideous human being. These words were said to me repeatedly every day until the age of 18. I look at my scars, the one right above my eye where my mother pushed me into the table corner and my eyebrow split open, and the one across my arm, from when my father purposely smashed my arm in the car door.
I think about the things that I have seen, I remember the time when I walked into my parent’s room and they were using drugs. I remember my mom stashing wads of money behind a dresser and telling me to keep quiet. I remember living in our car in the month of December when I was ten.
The only happy time of my life was when I met Angel. He was truly my only happiness. I met him when I was 17. He caught me stealing food from a store and offered to buy it for me instead. I had not eaten for three days because I thought I could run away from my family, he saved my life. When I was with him I felt alive, I felt beautiful, and I felt human. I look at myself and remember the things he said to me.
“You are important, and beautiful, and you will always be a part of me.”
But I killed my Angel. I called him one night that my dad hit me, he rushed to try to get to me and he got hit by a truck. I never saw him again.
I haven’t replayed this event in my head since the day he died. I look at myself in the mirror and told myself.
“I’m important, I’m beautiful and I will always be a part of my Angel”
The elevator starts up and the elevator door opens.