Oh shit oh shit oh shit what are you going to do!? Okay, call Martin, your therapist. That always works. You ring him.
"Martin? Are you there?"
"Hello? Who is this?"
"It's Jacqué! Goddammit man, this is no time for this!
"Sorry, but please get off the line. This is for actual calls, now never call me again or I call the police."
The phone clicks.
...
Oh God.
No, this is too mad. This can't be happening. You must have drank too much, maybe you are having a fever dream or some sort of huge prank or...
You are in hell.
It makes sense. You did some bad things to get where you are (Or were), so maybe... You died in your sleep and now you'll never wake up.
Your eyes seem to be watering. You were always allergic to concrete. You stumble out and into the elevator. The lady looks at you.
"Is anything the ma--
"I am fine, shut up.
...
"Listen, how long have you been here? How did you get here? Why are you still here?
"Well, I was with my boyfriend and we were coming home from a concert. We were just trying to find our car, then... This place warps time, I think. We spent twenty years in here until my boyfriend got eaten by something. I just wanna find my car so I can get the hell out of here...
Did you meet anyone?
..."No."