Youth Short Story - Second Place

A clock ticking, a light above buzzing, and the ding! of the elevator doors after I pressed the button were the only sounds left in the office this late. I stepped inside, gripping my briefcase tight. I hate to admit that I found the empty office space unsettling, and that I was a little creeped out. The hairs on the back of my neck were raised as the elevator doors started to close.
I've always hated the elevator in this rusty old building. Every few floors it makes a jumping motion, and it always stops for a few seconds before opening the doors and letting you out. The last written inspection on the elevator wall reads, "Gary Block - 1988".
"Wait!" A voice yelled as the elevator doors were closing. A very disheveled man with an open grey backpack ran towards me. He slid in, leaving a trail of papers in his wake. The doors closed immediately behind him.
"Woo!" He exclaimed, wiping a bit of sweat off his brow. "Long day, huh?"
He was a bit cheery for a man who just finished work at midnight. I didn't pay him much mind. I couldn't stop thinking about getting home to my bed and sleeping in late the next day.

"I don't know about you, but I sure am ready for the weekend!" He exclaimed. I nodded silently. The doors dinged and opened at floor 10, and a man in a black suit and a worn expression walked in solemnly. He stood in the corner of the elevator, the farthest he could be from our chatty co-worker.
"Anyways, my name's Jeremy. What's yours?" The cheery man continued. I told him my name, and the man in the black suit gave him a dirty look.
Suddenly, the elevator light flicked off, quickly replaced by a red light, and the movement stopped.
"What just happened?" Jeremy asked, his tone now slightly less optimistic.
"Maybe the power went out? Or the elevator malfunctioned." I offered. This only seemed to stress him out. In the corner, Suit Man's face is expressionless. He still hasn't said a word.
I looked over to see the "Emergency" button had fallen off. There was no calling for help now.
"Do you have a cell phone?" Jeremy asked, fanning himself with his hands. "My throat is dry. Is your throat dry? Is it?"
I took out my cell phone and pushed the power button. Nothing happened. It was dead.
"My wife and I made a New Year's resolution to not use our phones as much! I didn't even bring mine to work this morning." Jeremy said, sliding down the wall. When he got to the bottom he curled up with his head in his hands.
In the commotion with Jeremy, I forgot about Suit Man. He stood in the corner, still not letting a word leave his mouth.
Jeremy was desperate on the floor. He yelled to Suit Man. "Do you have a phone? So help me, if you have a phone and you've let me sit here!" The man looked him up and down, but still stayed silent. He lifted his hands as if to show he did not have a phone.
I can't exactly count the hours that passed. I spent most of the time calming Jeremy down. At one point, I got some sleep. I even convinced Jeremy to take a little rest. Suit Man did not move from his corner once, not even to sleep.
I was awoken by a shaken Jeremy.
"How long has it been? A week? A year? Are my kids all grown up?" Jeremy asked, panicking.
"Calm down, buddy. It's been a few hours, tops." I said to reassure him, the elevator floor looking like a more comfortable sleeping spot by the minute.
It may have been a few more hours before I woke up the second time to see Suit Man standing in front of the elevator doors. Just then, he spoke his first words to us.
"I'm tired of this." He said.
Seconds later, a firefighter busted open the door. Jeremy, Suit Man, and I all piled out. The
air had never tasted so sweet and full of life. One fireman informed me that my family had realized I hadn't come home, and called 911.
"Excuse me, what time is it?" I asked, sitting down with a hot coffee.
"9am Saturday." The fireman said. I had spent nine hours in that horrid elevator with two other men. I looked around and couldn't seem to see them anywhere.
"Excuse me, did the other two men in there with me go home?" I asked.
The fireman looked at me, confusion and pity in his eyes. "Sir," He started. "There was no one else in the elevator with you."