Broken Elevators, People who Hate Each Other

Prompt: Put two people who hate each other in an elevator for 12 hours. What happens?

***

Kira's Response:

"Yes, clearly the answer is that you weren't obnoxious enough for the first eight hours," Charlie said, gritting his teeth.
Lisa shot a glare at him and continued banging on the door. "Help! Somebody help us!"
Charlie smirked and slid his back down the cold wall. "Funny," he said, "last time I heard that from you, we were in bed together."

"Funny," Lisa shot back, "that you would consider rape 'being in bed together.'"
Charlie's phone had been dead since hour two. With no better way to entertain himself than conversation, he refrained from punching Lisa in the face.

"A little soap opera-y, don't you think?" Charlie said.
Lisa had her back to him, her arms crossed tightly. "No." A shiver ran down her spine. She could feel his hot breath getting closer to her, the light hiss of his throat sounded like a snake.

"Oh, come on. We both had too much to drink. We were young." So he was stretching the truth a little bit. Charlie had been tipsy, but back in college it had taken a lot more than a couple shots to get him black-out drunk.
Lisa half-heartedly pressed the "door open" button. "Look, I don't want to get into it right now. You're an asshole, I get it. I just want to get the hell out of here."

"What if, once we get out, I take you to dinner?"

"Then you'd be a classy rapist."

"Movie? I heard there's a new one with that guy who all the ladies love."

"How very descriptive," Lisa said, but the corners of her mouth turned up into a smile. Back in college, it was clear that Charlie's friends were glorified drinking buddies who turned into the occasional sex object. It wasn't like he was maliciously waiting in the bushes, waiting to attack the next cleavage-sporting female who walked by. He liked to have fun. Too much fun. The kind of fun that got him kicked out of college, kicked out of Lisa's apartment, out of her life. It was easier that way, she'd always told herself, to have a clean break. She'd have plenty of feelings for other men who didn't shit all over her boundaries.

"Or are you a more action film kinda girl?"

"I'm the kinda girl who doesn't go to movies with people she wants to kick in the face." More banging on the door.

"Duly noted." Charlie began to feel the exhaustion set in. His mouth was parched. "You got any water in that Mary Poppins bag of yours?"

Lisa reached into her blue, floral printed purse and grabbed a green-tinted bottle. She twisted the lid open and let the cool water splash onto her face, into her mouth.

"Mmmmm," she hummed, making slurping sounds. "Yummy."

"You're evil," Charlie hissed, trying to conjure up more saliva. His tongue started to feel like chalk.

"To quote a certain Charlie, 'I'm just playing,'" Lisa retorted, chugging more water.

Charlie, at this point, would have invented a time machine, told his twenty-year-old self to go to Hell, and given Lisa his life's savings if it allowed even the tiniest drop of water.

"You can hold a grudge, you know that?" Charlie said, his voice croaking.

"I can be vengeful when need be."

"I'm not just some evil villain, you know," Charlie said. His back was beginning to hurt.

"I believe you."

"So you forgive me?"

"No."

"You really should've majored in logic."

Lisa swept her hair back and pulled it into a pony tail. Her face was a lot more angular, Charlie noticed. She had lost the softness around her cheeks.

"So what did I major in, then?" Lisa said, her voice harsh with a challenge.

"Women's studies, I gather."

Lisa shoved the water bottle back in her bag and began toying with her bracelet. "A natural comedic, aren't we."

"English? You've certainly got the quick wit." Neither Charlie nor Lisa could tell if he was being serious.

"Philosophy."

Charlie held back a snort. He thought only pretentious people with hipster glasses and French mustaches could actually major in philosophy.

"Oh, so you've got all those Freudian theories down, huh?"

"It was a long time ago."

"Tell me," Charlie started, fiddling with his watch. "I once had a dream that I was stuck in an elevator with a gorgeous woman who wants to beat me with a hammer. What could that possibly mean?"

"That you need to be beat with a hammer," Lisa said.

Charlie frowned. "Solid analysis." Silence. "I majored in chemistry."

"I swear to God, Charlie, if you end that sentence with 'and we have it," I will personally knock down this elevator door."

"I'm serious."

Lisa raised her eyebrows. "Oh." It had been five years since they'd even spoken to each other. Why had he waited until Lisa had a life, had gotten settled in her closure over this guy, to finally be nice? To be human?

"Did you...like it?" Lisa said.

"Sure, until I got kicked out of school. That kind of put a damper on things."

"Ah yes, you are the victim here, of course," Lisa smirked.

"No, you are. But I'm sorry." It was an apology that hung in the air, like a dream catcher.

"Thank you." Lisa hugged her legs to her chest as she pressed her back against the cold walls. She didn't see emptiness when she stared into Charlie's eyes--there something there, a sort of gaze that made her feel like she was interesting, somehow, past her physical self.

Charlie nodded. Lisa nodded.

The End!  

***

M.C.'s Response:

"You," said Ivy, punching the button for the fiftieth, "are a despicable human being. You know, the first time this happened, I thought 'this is just a phase, she'll grow out of it', but noooo, it turns out, you're just a slut."

"I know you are, but what am I," Lily said mockingly, adjusting her silver blonde hair in her compact mirror.

"You? You're about to file for divorce. Again."

Ivy stabbed the button again, they were already late for their appointment with Lily's lawyer and the elevator was creeping along at a snail's pace.

"Marriage number three. Big deal," Lily said, putting on another layer of lipstick.

"You know, they last longer if you don't sleep with your husband's brother."

Lily snapped her compact closed. "I told you, I. Don't. Want. To. Talk. About. It. God, your guilt is so annoying."

"Look, Lil, I know I told mom that I would look out for you out here in the city, but I'm just going to have to tell her that I give up. This is impossible!"

"Like I asked for your help. I'm getting alimony from two different investment bankers; in case you haven't noticed, I'm doing all right." She rolled her eyes. "Lord, this elevator is slow."

"Fine! You don't need me? Then I'm done here." Ivy said, jabbing the 'stop' button and the 'door open' button at the same time. "Bye bye, sayonara, auf wiederseheng, aloha. That's both hello and goodbye in Hawaiian."

"Ooooh, you're so deep," Lily snarled.

Ivy ignored her, jabbing the 'door open' button again. "It's jammed," she said, "It's f***ing jammed."

"Just kick it or something, it'll open," Lily said.

"Lily, the elevator is not moving."

"Oh, hell no," Lily said, "we are not stuck here. I can't be stuck in an elevator with you. Get out of the way!"

Mustering all her strength, Lily kicked the elevator doors as hard as she could with her Gucci heels, but the shiny, golden doors stayed resolutely shut.

"Ow!" She screamed. "If my toe is broken, I'm suing!"

"Shut up!" Ivy said, elbowing her away from the door. "This is a building full of lawyers; they take this stuff seriously here."

"I was being serious," Lily said sulkilily.

"You're such a baby," Ivy said, "just sit down for a second; I'm sure there's a panic button or something. As always I have to be the adult."

"Forget the panic button; I'm calling 9-1-1!" Lily said.

"Lily, 9-1-1 is for emergenices." Ivy said.

"Unless your hair spontaneously combusts; this is not an emergency. We just need to find a panic button. Chill." 

"I'm trapped in an elevator with my sister who probably wants to disembowel me with a curling iron. This is an emergency," Lily said, whipping out her iPhone.

She dialed and raised the phone to her ear, stylisly adorned with a diamond the size of Ivy's fingernail.

"Hi...9-1-1...my name is Lily Wood; I'm trapped in an elevator with my sister..." Lily paused, "yeah, the address is...." There was another pause. "What do you mean I'm going to have to wait?.... Maybe this isn't a life or death situation but I have a facial later today and I really can't miss...Oh!" Lily gasped. "She hung up on me!"

"That's probably because you were talking to her," Ivy said."Are they sending someone or what?"

"She said we were going to have to wait until all the life threatening emergencies had been attended to."

"How long, Lily?"

"What's the matter, couldn't find a panic button."

"No. How long?"

Lily rolled her eyes. "She said it could be a couple of hours. Whatever, I'm suing the NYPD. In the mean time, I need a smoke."

She took a pack of cigarettes from her Coach handbag.

"Lily! You can't smoke in here! We'll run out of oxygen." Ivy said, grabbing for the cigarettes.

"You might want to stop breathing then," said Lily, hunting around for a lighter.

"Ugh!" Screamed Ivy, "you're so selfish! I try to do something nice for you, and now I'm going to end up with lung cancer!"

"I'm selfish? You want to talk about selfish? Do you have any idea what I've been through this past year?"

"Oh, boo-who, poor Lily, are your diamond slippers too tight? Is that the problem?" Ivy screamed, stamping her foot on the ground. "You want to talk about what you've been through? What about what I've been through? I spent four years waiting on Rick hand and foot just to have him break up with me!"

"Rick broke up with you?" Lily asked quietly.

"Yeah, now he's sleeping with some little slut who looks barely old enough to be legal, and I'm pretty sure she's only with him because he gives her money for pot. I mean, how am I supposed to feel about that? He used to make me iron his socks, did you know that? And I did it! I did it because I thought it was love."

"It wasn't love," Lily said quietly, sinking to the floor.

"No," Ivy agreed, sitting down next to her, "it wasn't love."

"It never is," she said softly, "I've been married three times. It never is. I know."

"Look, Lil, I'm sorry," Ivy said, "I know...I mean, you do some stupid stuff, but I know you don't mean to."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" Lily sniffed. "Because I'm pretty sure I couldn't feel worse right now."

"That's not what I meant to say...I just meant...I just meant I'm sorry."

Lily exhaled heavily. "So it looks like we're going to be here for a while."

"Yeah," Ivy agreed, "looks like you'll miss your apointment."

"That's okay," Lily said, "I can get divorced any day."

There was a long pause.

"So he made you iron his socks, huh?" Lily asked, "what a wierdo."

"You don't even know the half of it. What about Josh?"

"Oh I think he was dropped on his head as an infant. He used to drink ketchup straight out of the bottle; he said it gave him stamina." Lily said.

"Did it?" Ivy asked.

"Hell no!" Lily laughed.

"Is that why you slept with his brother?" Ivy asked.

"No, I slept with his brother one, because he was much better looking and two, because I found out that Josh just married me to get a green card. Did you know he's from Canada?"

"Seriously?"

"Yeah! He's from Nova Scotia!"

"No!"

Just then, the elevator gave a sudden lurch. Ivy heard the gears grinding into life and the low groan of machienery. She got up, wiping the dust off her skirt.

"We're moving!" Lily crowed.

"It looks like we'll make the lawyer after all!" Ivy said, grinning at her sister.

"Nah, let's not worry about that today," Lily said with a yawn. "I'm too emotionally exhauseted to deal with that shark."

"Do you want to go egg Josh's house in the Hamptons?" Ivy suggested.

"Let's!" Lily said, "I love it when we have sister bonding time."

***

642 Things to Write About: An Introduction

Hello, internet go-ers! So, once upon a time, MC and I had a dream that one day, all the chocolate in the world would be free, both money and calorie-wise, and homework would be optional, and birds would sing tunes from the Jungle Book.

Unfortunately, that holds no meaning to this blog, so until then, you'll just have to be held in suspense about the Jungle Book birds.

We did have another dream, however--to write. Not just scribbling random thoughts on a notebook every day kind of writing, professional writers who drink coffee by the gallon and make impressive "I'm thinking serious thoughts" faces.

So, we started a writing blog, where we wrote about...wait for it...writing! *gasp* We covered anything from classics to how education affects reading, and it was all kind of heavy, so the whole thing kind of flopped.

And we stopped blogging forever, and drowned ourselves in Lindor truffles, the end.

Kidding. 

So like people who like to spend money for the sake of buying things like to make practical purchases, MC and I went to Barnes & Noble with a friend. While I've literally gone to B&N 3 TIMES THIS WEEK, what's the harm of buying twenty more books I have no time for? While we spent a large amount of time looking at pictures of kittens reading classic literature, what really caught our eyes was this book:

Basically, the book is filled with 642 random prompts to help writers get inspiration for potential stories. Both MC and I got a copy, and we wanted to share our prompts/answers with you wonderful people. Sometimes we'll choose a prompt together and have two responses per post, other times we'll go solo. Do not try this at home. Just kidding--feel free to answer as many prompts that strike your fancy...or the ones that don't, and you're just looking for ways to avoid doing homework. You're not the only one. We'd love to read any stories from fellow writers!

And in the words of Bob Marley--"stand up for your rights writes."

Happy writing!