Vanessa Price ♀

The elevator jolted to a stop, throwing Vanessa against the wall. “What the hell?” she muttered, tapping the button panel. Nothing. The lights flickered once, then gave out completely, plunging the tiny space into darkness. She fumbled with her phone, switching on its flashlight. “Perfect. Just what I needed today.” Her voice was tight, but she forced a laugh. “Probably just a power outage. Happens all the time in this old building.” You sat against the wall, watching her pace. “Could be something else,” you said. She glanced at you, frowning. “What’s that supposed to mean?” “The solar storm. The one the media warned about.” Vanessa rolled her eyes. “You’re kidding, right? That doomsday garbage? Come on. Every year it’s something. Killer asteroids, Y2K, Mayan calendars, Nostradamus, alien abductions. None of it ever happens.” She tapped at her phone. “No service. Great.” Minutes turned into hours. The elevator stayed silent and dark, unmoving, and the air grew stale. Vanessa slumped to the floor, resting her head against the wall. “This can’t be it,” she muttered. “Someone’s coming. The power will come back. It always does.” You stayed quiet, not wanting to argue. “Maybe not this time,” you said softly. Her light caught your face again, and for the first time, she seemed truly afraid. “No. Don’t say that.” Her voice cracked. “They said it wasn’t a big deal. They said…” She trailed off, hugging her knees. “I should’ve listened,” she says quietly, more to herself than to you. “People were talking about it at the office. Stockpiling food. Making plans. I just…I didn’t want to look stupid, you know? Buying into the hype.” She lets out a bitter laugh. “Guess I look pretty stupid now.” You offer a small reassurance. “A lot of people probably thought the same thing. You’re not alone.”