The Awakening of Suzan - Chapter 4

These events occur immediately after the end of chapter 3. Chapter 4 - The blow of the wind After finally closing the apartment door, I felt a little safer, but the relief was fleeting. Everything that I had gone through in the last few hours - from the situation at the market to the interaction in the elevator - was suffocating me. It was as if all my previously carefully controlled feelings were exploding inside me all at once. I was walking around the small apartment, trying to concentrate on simple tasks, and I started taking the groceries out of the bags and organizing everything in the cupboards, but my mind wouldn't stop, and the feeling of being constantly exposed, of being looked at and judged, was in my head, and it was a strange mixture of shame and something that I couldn't name. Every movement I made seemed charged with tension, the fabric of my clothes, which had once protected me, now seemed suffocating, the sensations piling up, and I felt unable to escape from that inner turmoil. Finally, I let myself be carried away by an impulse that I couldn't even explain properly myself. I took off my clothes, one piece at a time, and dropped them on the floor of the apartment. I needed to get rid of that weight, if only symbolically. For some reason, being without anything seemed to be the only way to reconnect with myself at that moment. It was an attempt to feel free, to remove all the layers of tension that had accumulated throughout the day. Completely naked, I would move around the apartment, feeling the fresh air against my skin. It was a liberating, yet strange feeling. As much as my mind was a mess of thoughts, the act of taking off my clothes gave me a temporary relief. I went back to focusing on shopping, arranging each item in its proper place, aware of the strange contradiction of my situation: I was alone in the house, completely exposed, but there was no one to see me. Perhaps, in a way, it symbolized what I had been feeling: a need to escape all external pressures and just exist, without expectations or judgments. As soon as I finished organizing my groceries, I looked around and noticed the packages and bags scattered on the floor. I had accumulated a lot of garbage, and I knew I needed to take it to the compartment in the hallway upstairs. I looked at the exit door of the apartment and for a moment I was torn between reality and that strange impulse that seemed to dominate my thoughts. "Nobody's going to see me", I thought to myself. The trash compartment was right there in the hallway. It would be a quick one - get out, dump the trash, and come back before anything could go wrong. I hesitated for a second, but the feeling of freedom that I had experienced moments before was still with me, so without much thought, I opened the door and walked out. With the garbage bag in my hand, I walked to the compartment in the corridor. The cold ground beneath my bare feet brought me back to reality in an intense way. The corridor was empty and silent, but I could still hear the distant sound of other apartments, the noise of televisions and muffled conversations. As soon as I threw the trash in the bin, a draft of air passed through me, and at the same moment I heard the sound of the door of my apartment closing behind me. A shiver ran down my spine. The door had been slammed with the wind, and I was locked outside with absolutely nothing. My breathing sped up, and the weight of the situation fell heavily on me. I was completely exposed in the hallway of my building, without clothes, without a key, without a plan. Panic began to set in. I looked around, desperately trying to find a solution. I couldn't just stand there, but I couldn't risk being seen either. The elevator was an option -- anyone could come at any time. The stairs, maybe. But what if someone was going up or down? My hands trembled as I tried to think of something, the sound of my heartbeat seemed to fill the silent corridor, the sense of exposure was overwhelming, but at the same time there was something almost surreal about that situation, as if the universe was conspiring to take me completely out of my comfort zone. Five minutes went by, and every second seemed like an eternity, and I cowered against the wall, trying to hide as much as I could while waiting for something -- anything -- to pop into my head as a solution, but for now, all I could do was stand there, completely vulnerable, at the mercy of what was coming next. The sense of freedom I had moments before, packing my groceries completely naked, is quickly replaced by a tightness in my chest, as if the air had been stolen from me. I stop, shocked, and look at the locked door. "What have I done?" I think, and I instinctively put my hands on my body, trying to cover what I can. My fingers tremble as I try to hide as much as possible, but there's no way, I'm caught by the harsh reality. I'm naked, outside my apartment, in the corridor of the building. My breath gets shorter, and I feel the heat rising up my face. It was as if every part of me was exposed, not just physically, but emotionally. I could hardly believe the situation I was in. I looked down and saw that no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't completely cover my body with my hands, my shame increased by realizing that my red and full hair was leaking between my fingers, with the slightest touch I could feel that I was wet, how was this possible? My thoughts were confused. How could this have happened? My eyes wander down the hall, looking for a quick fix, despair takes hold of me for a moment, and then, I hear the sound I feared the most: the lock on another apartment. My heart is racing. I don't have much time. Someone's about to leave. I knew that noise was from some neighbor. I couldn't be caught like that, completely vulnerable. Without thinking much, I ran to the stairs. My hands were shaking as I held the doorknob of the staircase door, and I could hardly breathe from so much nervousness. As soon as I entered, I peered through the door, trying to see who it was. My heart almost came out of my mouth when I realized that it was Mr. Menelaus. Menelaus was the kind of neighbor I avoided whenever possible. He was the husband of Dona Ofelia, a sweet lady, always willing to help. If she were there, I might have a chance to ask for help. But Menelaus? No. He always gave me strange looks when we met in the elevator or in the corridor, those looks that made me feel uncomfortable. Now, to imagine that he could see me like this, with nothing, was terrifying. Hidden behind the door of the staircase, I could hear his voice calling for Pelúcia, the couple's cat. "Pelúcia! Where have you been, huh?" he shouted as he walked down the corridor. The sound of his footsteps reverberated in the staircase, and each step made my heart beat faster. I was paralyzed. I couldn't run down because he would see me. I couldn't climb back up, because the door to my apartment was locked. I was stuck there, with no way out. Time passed slowly, and I could feel my body getting warmer and warmer, both from shame and from the fear of being discovered. I crouched down, trying to hide better, with my hands trying to cover what they could. I heard Menelaus speak a little lower, complaining about Pelúcia, who was always running away. "That cat, always running away. One day I'll end up losing you for good". Standing there, hidden, waiting for him to come back inside, seemed like an eternity. When I thought he was finally going to give up looking for the cat, I heard another noise coming from the corridor <unk> the door of the third floor apartment. My heart shot again. It was the moving team that I had found earlier in the elevator. I took a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves while listening to their conversation. "Dude, I think the elevator is going to be complicated, it has too big furniture", said one of the men, in a serious tone. 'Yes, but taking everything up the stairs will be even worse. I don't know if we'll make it through the curve of the third floor,' replied another. I could hear the voices clearly. I was so close that I could even smell the dust and sweat, which came from the heavy work they were doing, as they were discussing whether or not to use the elevator. Nerves running high, I hid as far as I could on the stairs, still trying to understand how I had gotten to this point, and there, listening to the footsteps and conversation of the moving men in the third-floor corridor, it all seemed like an endless nightmare, and I could feel the heat rising through my body, the tension making my muscles stiff as I tried to remain invisible. "We have to decide right away, people. It's going to be an eternity if we keep going up and down the stairs with these big furniture", said one of the men, his voice full of frustration. "But that sofa... I don't know if it goes through the elevator". I struggled to stay calm, but every word they exchanged seemed to make time drag on even further, and I couldn't be seen in that situation, especially after the way they looked at me in the elevator earlier, and the discomfort of those looks came back with full force in my mind. "Did you see that woman in the elevator earlier?" said one of the men, and I held my breath. "Which one? The redhead? The one in the short skirt?" replied another. I didn't know if I wanted to disappear or scream. They were talking about me. The sense of exposure was unbearable. I was locked out of my own apartment, completely vulnerable, and now they were commenting on me. "I swear she was almost naked. That skirt was too short, wasn't it? Or did I see wrong?" one of them laughed, and the others seemed to agree, still arguing about the change. My thoughts were in complete chaos. Did they realize what was happening to me? Did they somehow know that I was now even more exposed than before? As I waited, trying to calm myself, a strange feeling began to take hold of me, something I didn't quite understand. The moisture in my thighs was impossible to ignore. I felt more confused than ever, trying to push those thoughts away. How could I be reacting like this, in such an absurdly embarrassing situation? My eyes closed for a moment, trying to focus on anything other than what they were talking about or what my body was doing, and I was completely out of control, as if the whole universe was conspiring to force me out of my comfort zone, and I needed to think of a solution, but I was paralyzed by shame and uncertainty. But instinctively, I started touching myself with the hand that was trying to cover my little pussy, and then my other hand started caressing my breasts, and I was totally horny, with my back against the cold, bare wall, which made me let out a low whimper, and I was so horny that it didn't even take a minute for it to kick hard, and the orgasm made my legs weak and I almost fell to my knees on the floor. Even using my left hand to cover my mouth, my groan was heard by the men of the change, who even made a comment, and my heart almost stopped at that moment. "I think the crazy old bitch up there is on the stairs". "Oh, leave that cat there and we'll figure it out". "Elevator or stairs?" one of them insisted, clearly impatient. Time seemed to drag on even longer, and with each passing second, my despair grew. I cowered even more on the stairs, trying not to make a noise, not to be noticed. They couldn't see me like this at all. Totally shaken and a little weak from this unexpected orgasm, which made me more confused. I didn't even masturbate like this at home, now I was on the building stairs with my fingers between my legs. What am I becoming? What if someone saw me now? But soon my attention turns to the men of change. Finally, after a few more minutes of discussion, they decided to take the elevator. A momentary relief passed over me, but I was still far from out of danger. I heard as they began to move, pushing the furniture and talking about the next step of change. I waited until the steps were far enough apart, and only then did I begin to move. But even so, that momentary relief was overshadowed by the reality that I was still there, naked and still half-shaking from masturbation, trying to find a solution. Every sound in the building seemed louder, more threatening, and the shame kept eating away at me. I felt trapped between the fear of being seen and the confusion of what it all meant, as if all the feelings that I had suppressed over the years between my studies and now entering the job market were exploding all at once, but at that moment, all I wanted was to escape, return to the safety of my apartment and put an end to this nightmare. When I finally heard the moving men had returned inside the apartment where the moving was taking place, I made a decision. I had to go down to the concierge. Maybe Oswaldo was there, and hopefully he could help me with the master key. But as I went down the stairs one by one, I tried to calm my breath and ignore the screaming sense of vulnerability that was taking hold of me. I was naked and still excited, and every sound in the building seemed to amplify my panic.