I hit call, and nothing happens. There isn’t a ring noise, and it doesn’t playback a message like the office phone did.
What the hell is going on tonight? First the phones here, then the elevator, then the stairwell. And now my own damn phone, the one I pay for, won’t even connect.
My anxiety worsens. This is my nightmare. I don’t like the idea of being here alone, in almost complete darkness.
I do not want to be stuck here overnight. The building feels eerie and it reminds me of the vibes you’d get from a horror movie.
That amps my anxiety through the roof and my hands start to sweat because of it.
I’ve seenP2. I know how this ends.
Some creepy fuck shows up and kidnaps me.
Thefuckingend.
I start cycling through my options.
I could make some big sign and slap it on the window, hoping someone out there actually sees it. I could try to break the stairwell door, eventhough I already know that’s not happening. Or.. I stay.
I could crash in my office. Wedge a chair against the door like it might actually keep something out. Something other than a ghost.
That’s the only option I’ve come up with that doesn’t sound completely stupid.
I guess that’s the plan. I’ll stay here and keep trying to reach someone.
I could try to call-
Nope. Absolutely not.
I’mnotfucking calling him. I swore that dickhead off.
My heels click against the floor again as I head back to my office. I dial my co-worker Zoe’s number as I step inside, pushing the door shut behind me and jamming a chair under the handle like I said I would.
I hold the phone to my ear and nothing happens.
No ring and no stupid automated voice practically telling me to fuck off.
What in the actual fuck.
I don’t usually drop the F-bomb this much, but everything seems to be going against me today, and I’m not enjoying it.
I shut the blinds on the big window next to my door, tugging them closed as fast as I can. It makes me feel better, like if no one can see me, I’m somehow safer. It also cuts off the dark that dreadfully sits outside my door, which I’m more than okay with. I don’t do well with the dark. Why I keep staying here after-hours, I honestly don’t know.
Once that’s done, I move over to the small velvet green sofa and drop onto it, kicking off my heels in the process. I lean back and start flipping through different apps like Facebook, Instagram and TikTok; just to see ifsomethingworks.
Nope.
Of course not. Not one fucking thing has gone right today.
My brain immediately jumps to the worst possible conclusion. Maybe some other country finally got sick of us and hit us with an EMP or something, because at this point, that’s the only thing that would make sense.
Or my luck is just so bad that AT&T decided to be useless again, and the building’s tech picked tonight to die right along with it.
I grip my phone, trying not to throw it across the room. I’m not obsessed with social mediaand I don’t enjoy talking to anyone most of the time, but being completely cut off like this? Yeah, that’s not my idea of a good night.
It’s like every ounce of control I have just got ripped away. I can’t reach anyone, and I can’t even leave the building. This has got to be the worst fucking day ever.
When I put my phone down, I notice how quiet it actually is here. So quiet I can hear the air conditioning kick on, pushing air through the vent above me. Why in the hell was the electricity working, but the Wi-Fi for the building is completely down? My phone itself isn’t even working right.
