There's not much to tell.
We got stuck in the elevator around 3pm on Sunday afternoon. That was two days ago. Not much has changed.
People take up all kinds of weird hobbies. Dangerous ones. People chase storms, base-jump, hunt exotic game. Never did I think perusing abandoned buildings would kill me. But here I am.
And to be trapped with this gorgeous woman was also unexpected. We'd just met in the lobby, had both heard about this place and found the elevator still working.
Decided we'd both check out the top floor, where the money was rumored to still be stacked, crisp, and open for grabs.
And so we got stuck. You do what I do for as long as I have, you instantly know you're in trouble. There's no fireman waiting for you to hit that emergency-button. Cameras but no audience.
It's up to you to get out.
But, two days later we realized we couldn't. This place had originally been some high security establishment. The doors are 3-inch-thick steel and soundproof, as if that would make a difference.
Hell, I couldn't even pry the door open enough to relieve myself into the shaft. But, I guess, we've both come to accept our condition.
When there's nowhere to go, you've got plenty of time to think.
The second day was different. We were cramped in the box together, all our waste tucked into one corner. It reeked. We were hungry but we both knew there was no getting out.
People become cannibals when they think living a couple extra hours will save them. We both knew there would be no point in confronting such evils.
The second day, we talked a lot. We were hungry, but not famished. Tired, uncomfortable, but still only one day in.
We both reminisced about earlier days, ignored, pretended not to see what our own futures held. That night, we made love because why not? Why not, that is, try to make the best of it?
So now, here I am sitting in my corner. I feel like it's morning but there's no way to tell. She's still asleep. And I've found the pair of wire cutters I keep in my sack.
The elevator ceiling opens, and while there's nowhere to go, the wire holding us up is visible, within reach, and just about almost half-way cut. I'll only need another few minutes.
I just hope she doesn't hear it and wake. She doesn't.
And we're falling. We made it near enough to the top floor that I don't have any concerns about the landing. I've only got a couple seconds to explain.
It didn't matter what happened in the box, our history died with us. No trace of our actions. We were confined from everyone else and lived outside of time and space.
What people don't realize, I think, is that if there's enough people in a big enough box, you don't even realize it's there at all.