Her new job

1025 Words
*Kiera* The sharp c***k of a gunshot rings out, piercing through my thoughts. My heart leaps into my throat, instinctively sending a wave of adrenaline surging through me. I jump at the sound, my fingers tightening reflexively around the pen I’m holding. I look around, half-expecting to see the familiar chaos of a classroom filled with frightened children, but instead, I’m met with the monotone view of the office. Just a car backfiring on the street. The realization washes over me like a cold shower, leaving me shaken and breathless. I take a deep breath, forcing myself to settle into the moment, to remember where I am, the way my therapist has told me to do. The echoes of that day still linger, like a ghost that haunts me in the corners of my mind, forcing me to keep remembering what I’m trying so hard to forget. I glance at the cluttered desk before me, the papers strewn about, this is not what I wanted, not my dream, but it is a new start. It’s far from the bright, colorful classroom filled with laughter and innocence I once cherished. It is a chance to be part of something, even if it’s just as a secretary in this corporate office. I remind myself that it’s better than nothing, that the principal of the school believed in me enough to help me find this position after I struggled to return to teaching. Still, I can’t shake the feeling of inadequacy. A secretary? It feels like a pale shadow of my former self, but I hold onto the hope that this role could eventually lead to something more fulfilling. As I shift my focus back to the task at hand, I hear the sound of footsteps approaching. My boss strides in with an air of confidence that makes the room feel smaller. William Lund… the owner and CEO of the company. He’s tall and strikingly handsome, with sandy hair that falls perfectly in place and high cheekbones that give him a chiseled appearance. His jawline is perfect, almost too perfect, and it adds to the icy demeanor that makes me feel a little like a deer caught in headlights every time he is near. He gives me a nod as he passes by, his blue eyes flicking towards me for a brief moment. It’s a simple acknowledgment, but it sends a jolt through me. I’m not sure if it’s the thrill of recognition or the intimidation that comes from being in the presence of someone so powerful. I swallow hard, reminding myself I’m here to do a job, to prove I can still contribute, even if it’s not in the way I envisioned. “Good morning, Kiera,” he says, his voice deep and smooth, like velvet draped over steel. “I need those reports on my desk by noon. We have a meeting with the board this afternoon.” “Of course, Mr. Lund,” I reply, forcing a smile even as my heart races. I can feel the weight of his gaze lingering for a moment longer before he continues on his way, his presence leaving a palpable tension in the air. I exhale slowly, trying to shake off the lingering unease. My fingers fly over the keyboard as I pull up the necessary documents, each keystroke grounding me in this new reality. I remind myself that I’m capable, that I can still handle pressure… even if it’s different from what I’m used to, but different is good. The office around me buzzes with activity, phones ringing, colleagues chatting, the hum of productivity filling the air. I try to immerse myself in the rhythm, but every so often, a stray sound… a loud bang or a sudden shout… sends my heart racing again, my mind spiraling back to that day. The day a year ago when I fought to protect the lives of my students. With every interruption, I feel the familiar weight of anxiety creeping back in. I can’t let it take over. I have to focus. I remind myself that I’m safe now, that I’m not in that classroom anymore. But the shadows of my past cling to me, lurking just beneath the surface and I fear they always will. As I finish compiling the reports, I glance at the clock. Time has a way of slipping through my fingers, and I can’t afford to lose any more of it. I take a deep breath, pulling my thoughts together. I’m here for a reason, and I won’t let fear dictate my life any longer. With renewed determination, I gather the papers and head toward Mr Lund’s office. The hallway feels long, each step echoing my resolve. I knock lightly on his door and push it open, stepping into the sleek, modern office that exudes power and authority. He looks up from his desk, his expression unreadable. “Here are the reports you requested, Mr. Lund,” I say, my voice steady despite the butterflies swirling in my stomach. I place the folder on his desk, trying to appear confident, even if I feel anything but. “Thank you, Kiera,” he replies, his tone professional. He flips through the pages, his focus unwavering. “Excellent work. I appreciate your attention to detail.” His words spark a flicker of pride within me. I want to be more than just a secretary; I want to prove I’m capable of more. But the moment passes quickly as he looks back at me, that icy demeanor returning. “Is there anything else?” he asks, his eyes searching mine. “No, sir. Just happy to help,” I respond, forcing a smile, though I can feel the weight of his gaze on me. “Good.” He nods, dismissing me with a flick of his wrist. “Keep up the good work.” And as I walk back to my desk, I remind myself that every new beginning comes with its own set of challenges, like an icy boss. I may be facing a different kind of battle now, but I won’t back down or give up.
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