Summary

A woman recounts a harrowing experience in a Beijing hotel where she felt followed and threatened by a strange man in an elevator.

Abstract

The narrative describes a chilling encounter experienced by a woman named Carla during a visit to China with her partner, Carl. While staying at a hotel in Beijing, Carla finds herself alone in an elevator with a middle-aged Chinese man who does not speak English and appears to follow her after they both exit on the same floor. Her concern escalates when she realizes they are the only ones on the floor, and she recalls the eerie case of Elisa Lam, a girl who went missing from a hotel and was last seen on CCTV footage with an elevator. Carla's fear prompts her to act as if she is speaking on the phone and to return to the lobby, where the man follows her. The experience leaves her heart racing until Carl's return allows her to escape the situation.

Opinions

The author seems to be deeply unsettled by the man's behavior in the elevator, suggesting a feeling of vulnerability and danger.
The mention of the Elisa Lam case indicates that the author may have an obsession with true crime, which contributed to her heightened sense of fear.
The author implies that making eye contact and greeting a stranger, as advised by her mother, may not always be an effective safety measure, especially when language barriers are present.
The author's decision to pretend to be on the phone reflects a belief in the effectiveness of such tactics to deter potential threats in public spaces.
The author's relief upon her partner's return suggests a strong reliance on his presence for a sense of security in unfamiliar environments.

TRAVEL | CHINA

The Creepiest Ride I’ve Ever Taken

Or was I paranoid?

I was inspired by Mum’s story ‘Caught Nude…’ to write about a time when I too, have been creeped out by a man. Although the creepy man in my story was wearing clothes.

Four years ago, Carl and I visited China. We were on an eight-day tour through Beijing, Zhengzhou, Tianjin and Guangzhou. Even though I’d travelled overseas a number of times before, this was the first time I’d ever joined a group tour.

We were staying at a hotel in Beijing and had just enjoyed a night out with my brother. He’d lived in China for over ten years and it was the first time we’d caught up. He took Carl and I out to enjoy a feast of Chinese delicacies (most memorable; the peking duck). Rowan ordered a small bottle of fire water and we shared a few shots. Fire water is slang for the most disgusting rice wine you’ve ever tasted and it’s clearly called that because it burned like hell on the way down. Anyway, fire water was suuuper alcoholic (something like 47.5%), and lucky for us, Rowan said we could take the rest home.

Rowan dropped us back to our hotel in the Chinese equivalent of an Uber. It was freezing and we’d just reached the warmth of our hotel lobby when Carl said, ‘I’m thirsty.’

‘There’s water in our room,’ I replied.

‘But I want cold water.’

‘Ugh, you are so annoying. You go, I’m fucking freezing.’ There was a convenience store a few doors down. He wouldn’t be gone long.

It was late but there was still a woman behind reception. I made my way over to the elevators and pressed the up button. The doors opened instantly. I stepped into the lift and pressed the button for the 11th floor and just as the doors were about to close, a man rushed through. I smiled and stepped out of his way so that he could select his own floor. He didn’t. The doors closed.

I remember thinking it was a little strange. Out of sixteen floors, what were the chances he was staying on ours? I thought our tour group had all of the eleventh floor as well as part of the twelfth. The man was Chinese and probably in his mid-fifties. He definitely wasn’t on our tour.

A strange and unfamilliar feeling settled in my stomach. I remembered something Mum had told me years ago: If ever you’re walking alone and pass a stranger on the street, say hello. Make eye contact with them and smile. A man is much less likely to hurt you if you show you’re not afraid of them.

So I did just that.

‘Hello,’ I smiled.

The man just stared at me. He obviously didn’t speak a lick of English.

He made a drinking gesture and pointed at me.

I looked down and realised why. He’d seen the half-drunk bottle of fire water I had in my pocket.

I smiled and nodded. He must have thought I was drunk because he made another drinking gesture.

Again, I just smiled.

Ding — Finally. The doors opened and I exited the lift. I could tell he followed me out.

Bear in mind, I am true-crime obsessed. And I’d recently heard the Elisa Lam case: Girl in LA goes missing, last seen on hotel’s CCTV stepping out of an elevator.

The haunting footage can still be found on YouTube and right at that moment, it’s all I could think of. So instead of turning left towards our room, I turned right. Not realising that right led to nowhere. There were only two doors; one to a store room and the other to an emergency fire escape. I spun around, half hoping, half-expecting that the man had toddled off to his room and that I’d been paranoid. I was wrong. He too, had exited the lift and stood just outside the elevator lobby.

There was no way I was walking to my room with him there. He just stood there, watching me. I pretended to answer my phone — a skill I’ve acquired over many years of avoiding random people in shopping centres trying to sell me shit.

‘Well, where are you?’ I said to no-one over the phone.

I knew he couldn’t understand English, but I know my tone was convincing. ‘I thought you were already here… Ugh, so, you’re in the lobby? I’ll come to you.’ I said, walking back to the lifts.

I pressed the button and thank Christ, the elevator hadn’t gone anywhere.

Maybe he was drunk. Maybe he’d forgotten his room. Maybe I was just being paranoid.

But I knew, when I stepped into the elevator and turned around, I wasn’t being paranoid.

I repeatedly hit the close door button as he was coming towards me.

The doors shut. And it wasn’t until I was alone that I felt the rapid thudding in my chest. My heart had been racing.

I arrived in the lobby. Where the fuck are you, Carl? I couldn’t call him. We only had a travel SIM for my phone, not his.

At last, he walked through the doors. Sipping his fucking cold water.

‘Thank fuck,’ I whispered.

‘What?’ he said, confused.

I looked behind me and the elevator opened. The man had followed me back down to the lobby.

I grabbed Carl’s hand and squeezed it, hard.

‘What’s wrong?’ he asked.

‘Shut up,’ I whispered, between clenched teeth.

I didn’t look at the man again but I know he watched my every step back towards the elevator.

It wasn’t until the doors closed that I told Carl everything.