This is my entry for the Constrained Writing Contest #22.
You can find out more information here. I encourage you to participate.

She glanced at her wrist, as she sat on the gray, stained floor of the elevator. The day’s date was scribbled permanently across her wrist. “This is it. This is how it happens,” she said to herself as she sighed. For eighteen years she wondered how her life would end and it was her time to find out. As she sat and waited for the gravitational pull to drop the elevator, she stared at her wrist. She was angry at it. Many times she fouled it up with a razor, and even though the scars made it hard to read, she still knew what it said. The image was burned in more than just her flesh, it was burned in her memory. The shiny mirrored walls of the elevator felt as though they had closed in around her.

It was November 12, 2051 and only two hours remained. She just hoped it would come swiftly. A brisk death would be the best, although she knew several others who had agonized for hours before their final breath was made. She had already made a pact with herself that if it came to it, she would end it first.

So there she sat patiently. She could hear her rescuers as they worked to open the doors, worked to set her free. But for what? What waited on the other side of those doors if she made it out alive? They struggled to squeeze their crowbars between the tight doors. After many tries, they managed to get the doors separated, but with only a minute to spare.

“Thank you,” she said to the men and then walked briskly down the narrow hallway back to her apartment.

She unlocked the door and slipped in and placed her back against the door to shut it. Slowly she slid downward along the door until she was squatted at the foot of it. She moved her feet out from under her, which caused her butt to plop down on the beige tile floor. She held her wrist up to look at the date one last time. Then, she flipped her wrist over to look at the time. It was 12:01 am.

She had just cheated death and the first in her lifetime to do so. She decided to celebrate by herself with a pint of Ben and Jerry's and the DVR full of unwatched episodes. She tried to watch the tense drama before her, but couldn't shake the idea of what just happened. Or why. After about thirty minutes, she went to the kitchen to retrieve more snacks. She grabbed the half empty bag of candy coated peanuts off the counter. She put a handful of them into her mouth as she searched for a drink to wash them down. She popped another in, but it landed directly in her throat. It was stuck. She choked as she tried to retrieve it. She hit herself in the chest and as she started to lose hope, she gripped the refrigerator to hold her up.

In the midst of death, that's when she saw it. On the calendar on the fridge, her handwritten reminder on yesterday's block. Set clocks back one hour.