Feeling hot, hot, hot

As you go straight to the stairs which lead up to the Social Sciences Building, you stop right at the bottom and start contemplating the 14 stories of offices where that rotten shadowy figure went with your spring break ticket.
“Where the hell should I start?” you ask yourself. You are limping and exhausted. You’ve been chasing this guy for what seems like hours, in the dark, and now you need to run through the same building where last quarter your American history TA made you wait for more than two hours for an appointment — that never took place.
The pain of the memory rushes back to you, but there is no time to think about it.
“I better take the elevator to the top floor,” you said, thinking that way you will search for this guy, starting at the top and working your way down the building.
All of a sudden, you hear the elevator doors closing. You stumble and run, but by the time you get there, the elevator is gone.
“Have you seen somebody getting in there?” you ask the blond girl with bright blue lipstick making photocopies right next door.
“I just saw this guy in a black leather jacket rushing in,” she says.
You go back to the elevator and notice that it stops on the 12th floor.
You take the other elevator and yell at the machine to hurry up, but it doesn’t help.
Suddenly, the elevator stops. You’re on the 12th floor, but the doors won’t open. The elevator has stopped and so has your world.
You decide to call the maintenance people on the red phone, but it’s Friday and everybody is gone. “Of course,” you think. “It’s Friday and everybody is partying their tails off.”
“What the hell am I doing here?” you desperately shout while you go through an existential dilemma. It’s getting hot and you’re fading … you just can’t believe it …