Stuck in the Elevator Again | ONC 2022

Loop 4.2

Last edited: 25/4/2022
[Roselyn]

Mr. Uburg doesn't respond and as every second passes, a tad of uneasiness adds to my plate.

I want to scream. I have to scream. If he doesn't reply soon, I don't think I can keep hold of myself anymore...

"Fine," Mr. Uburg grits out.

A squeal almost escapes my throat as I attempt to contain the happiness of being forgiven — even if it's just for now — for my actions. "Thank you!"

His compromise is an act of forgiveness. He accepted my offer, which means he will try to put aside my mistakes and accept me, giving me a chance to prove myself worth his forgiveness.

I scamper around the limited space as I let out my excitement and resolve in squatting down beside Mr. Uburg's talk figure. The cogs in my mind gyrate hectically as I recapitulate the important details from the previous time loops and come up with a possible solution. Perks of having a father who loves mystery and crime.

"So, Mr. Uburg, I was trying to analyze and draw a conclusion to this whole time loop thing. You see, according to my observations, the time loop will restart when today, April 14, ends, and we will appear in the elevator again at around 9 in the morning. Getting out of the elevator before the whole zombifying ends is a big no-no, since I doubt there will be any ways that we can prevent zombifying. And we have no idea if this time loop will continue forever or will it stop at a certain point... so setting out to break the time loop with the least number of trials is the best choice we have now. Getting out of the elevator after that alien shit zombifies everyone else... that should do the trick," I spiel, "what do you think?"

Mr. Uburg remains silent for a moment, creasing his eyebrows as his chest heaves and falls in the same rhythm. The quietness has me brood over my analysis and seek any misused words or disrespectful phrases that may have unintentionally offended him. After going through my little speech for the umpteenth time and picking at words that I should not have used, Mr. Uburg finally responds, "good point."

A smile breaks through my face, and I take that as my cue to continue. "Thanks! So, I think we should scout the area — sorry, look through the elevator — in case there is anything that we can use lying around. If there's something useful, we can alter our plans. But for the time being, I think we should wait for that stupid zombie to barge into the elevator. The zombie will help us open the elevator for us, so we can then jump out of the hole and hopefully find someplace to hide on the 70th floor."

Mr. Uburg drums his fingers as he broods over my suggestion. "How would we jump over the zombie? Where would we head to if we got out? What should we do? What is our aim when we get out there?"

I plaster a tight-lipped smile as I go over his bombarding questions. "We would just jump, of course. We would head for any empty rooms or the staircase. We would see how many zombies are on the floor first before planning on how to survive because the number of zombies will affect what we should do. We aim to understand what it is like outside and collect information such that we can perfect our next escape. Hopefully, we can find a way to break the loop then. Since the loop's present and real, there must be a solution to it. Or else, the person who set up the time loop will just be wasting his energy. I believe the loop's primal mission is to keep us alive, instead of killing us over and over, again and again."

Mr. Uburg falls silent. I seize this opportunity to persuade him further. "Are you willing to cope in this time loop forever? The outside world might be doomed now, but looping again and again in this elevator? It drives people nuts. If we can figure out a way to break the loop, then we can freely survive out there. It doesn't matter if it's doomsday. At least we get to choose."

The pursed lips of Mr. Uburg bleach even more, if possible. He stands there motionless as his eyes stare at me. It is as if he is struggling to read through my pretense, if there is one.

However, I have been wearing my cloak since the day of my sister's death and have been striving for perfection. Now and then I might have let the cold wind seep through the opening, but I have learned to wrap myself up in the correct way such that close to no one can peer through and view the broken girl underneath.

And now, I am letting him see through it. For the very first time in my life, I realize that there was never a purpose to this whole "protecting" thing I have been doing my whole life.

Was I afraid of being the laughing stock? Or that I would see the pity in others' eyes? Or that people will accuse me of my choice?

But nothing of that sort has happened, has it? I have let a few people in, Jacqueline included, and none of them ever harmed me in any way. They only supported me throughout the hardest times of my life, when my sister died for me and my parents died in a car crash.

I present a toothy, but sincere smile to the man in front of me. "What do you think, Mr. Uburg? Would you rather be controlled by some unknown force and become sapped, or strive to live the best you could?"

Mr. Uburg's pupils narrow in on my face. His scorching scan scrutinizes my every display as thousands of thoughts gallop around his mind and knock him off his feet. I lift my vision and hold my contemplation.

None of us break our gaze. We stare into each other's eyes, searching for what we each need to see from the other at this crucial moment.

His eyes look right through mine, and I am sure he sees all the raw emotions that are swirling inside.

One wrong judgment could lead to one wrong decision, and one wrong decision could lead to failure.

As I spot a long-awaited smirk graze his lips, I quickly grasp onto the breach of his inner battle and inquire, "deal, Mr. Uburg?"

A tiny but genuine smile washes over his snark but solemn features and replaces it instantly.

"Deal."