The Little Girl and I were heading out to the mini playground on the sky deck one fine Saturday afternoon.
It was going to be a short and sweet stint of monkey bars and slide for her so I left a note on the kitchen island for The Other Half, who was then napping with Bean.
Since it was going to be brief, I left my iPhone on the kitchen island as well. I would later regret this move.
So out the door we went, locked up and The Little Girl pressed the button with arrow pointing down to summon the lift.
Our lift car arrived and in we stepped, chatting and singing happily with so much enthusiasm of the fun ahead of us.
(Here is the part I have now learnt to say my bismillah and doa selamat/doa keluar rumah before leaving home, a small gesture of faith but ever so important in completing my faith in Him and relying on Him for His Protection).
The lift door closed, safety lock clicked and what happened next is a life changing experience.
One that taught me to live fully.
But most importantly, to complete my practice and faith as a Muslim.
I was holding The Little Girl's hands and standing at the side of the lift closest to the access card sensor and emergency button when in a very brief flash a loud metal crashing sound with chains breaking and dragging came from the top of the lift car.
Exactly like a scene out of a Hollywood blockbuster. In Dolby surround sound. Better than any 6D cinematic experience.
Within those few seconds but what seemed like eternity of free falling, we plummeted ten floors down and the numbers of floor changing flashed ever so quickly on the display board before our very eyes.
I don't know what The Little Girl was thinking but I recited my shahadah and prayed that we will live.
Just so she gets a chance to grow up.
Just so Bean will also get a chance to grow up knowing his mummy who loves him so much.
Just so my last words to The Other Half does not involve requesting him to jump into the shower before his much needed nap. I have nicknamed him "snowflakes" because his dry skin was shedding everywhere. Surely, those cannot be my last words to my best friend, companion and love of my life!
The lift car finally bounced to a stop. Instinctively, my survival mode + frantic lioness syndrome ensued.
The Little Girl remained very calm and quiet as she didn't know what to make out of what just happened. She had held my hands and stood very still. The usual chitter chatter and sing song air head was in pause mode.
Emergency button was rung, intercom activated and the rescue mission followed after a 20 minutes interval. The technician arrived, locked the lift car between floors, and doors were forced open.
A plastic chair was placed into the lift car so that The Little Girl and I could climb out between floors, out to safety.
Chief Security Officer of our dwelling place then escorted two very shaken and pale looking ladies home using another lift. By then, we were quite petrified of lifts!
The Other Half woke up blissfully and recharged when we got home, unaffected by it all. When he heard the verbal recount from his wife and three year old daughter, he was still in disbelief that something like this happened.
So we informed his parents right away. Luckily for us, Grandad is also the Chairman at the condominium Management Committee - that really sped up matters.
Needless to say, an incident report was immediately filed and remedy actions were taken to correct the blunder. That particular lift car was out of commission for the following two weeks.
Despite the legalities and technicalities complications, I am just glad to be alive, syukur alhamdulillah!
Now, every single time before anyone leaves the dwelling, I say a little prayer. Also, I now never leave home without my phone. You'd just never know!
