2.
1133 Words
I clutched the stack of freshly printed documents to my chest like my life depended on them.
It was still warm, and the ink still smelled sharp and new from the printing shop’s machines.
Thankfully, I’d emailed the printing press my work right from the office and when I sprinted there as it was a few blocks away from my office, they were almost done with the printing and all I did there was to put the payment on the company’s tab and get the prints.
Now, I’m back on the pavement, sprinting back with the heels Celestina had forced me to put on this morning. Had I known I’d be required to go on an urgent errand outside the company, I wouldn’t have listened to all her whining about me not dressing up enough. She even did light makeup for me and forced me to wear a white corporate shirt and wide-leg pants.
The heels now are the most unnecessary thing I’m putting on right now because of the discomfort it’s causing my heels as they clicked awkwardly on the pavement.
As I stepped onto the street, I glanced briefly at my phone.
My eyes widened. 9.55 AM.
My heart hammered in my chest.
Just five minutes left until the meeting with the client, and I’ll be more than damned if I don’t show up before the client does.
That’s also if the client isn’t around already.
My speed increased, such that it was as if I was in a hot chase with someone behind me.
“Come on, Aurora, you’ve got this,” I muttered to myself, dodging a couple of slow-walking individuals.
The proposal papers were perfect, with every graph and bullet point properly done. All the points were explained properly after I’d slaved over them all week.
If I could just get back to the conference room in time and hand them over, maybe Mr. Hargrove, my boss would finally see how hard working I am and promote me, allow me to do presentations just like Claudia since all the company relies on is my hard work, anyway.
But who am I kidding? He is one of my oppressors, even if he doesn’t say a word. He is the boss, and I believe if he asks everyone at the office not to dump all their grunt work on me, they will comply. But now, even junior employees use me the same way.
I know everyone’s question to me would be why I haven’t left my job yet if I don’t like how I am being treated. If I should leave this job, I really am not sure of getting employment anywhere else.
Product management might be one of the most sought jobs in Los Angeles, but I have absolutely nothing to show for my six years at work when all they do is to take the credit for all I do.
I slowed down immediately I burst through the office compound’s gate, the familiar glass doors looming ahead.
Almost there.
My legs burned from the sprint, sending me signals to stop and rest, but there’s no way I can do that if I don’t want to get a deduction. I pushed harder, going past the parked cars, momentarily closing my eyes to help them stay focused and less weak. Until... Bam!
I collided with something solid, like running into a wall.
I stumbled back, and the papers flew from my arms in a chaotic way, scattering across the concrete like fallen leaves.
“No, no, no!” I gasped, immediately dropping to my knees.
These were the only copies of the prints Celestina asked for.
I scrambled to gather them with my fingers shaking as I snatched them up and back into my arms.
Time was tickling, and I stopped for a moment to check the time on my phone.
I had only one minute left.
My heart pounded hard against my chest, and I immediately started reaching for the others. However, just before I could pick another, I watched as a dark liquid splashed down, right onto the other prints, my eyes widening as they soaked. The liquid spread like ink over the crisp pages, blurring the text into s, ears.
I froze, staring at the ruined prints, the weight of everything crashing down in my heart and tears starting to well up in my eyes.
Memories of how I stayed up late at night, even missed Ivy’s bedtime stories and how I’d denied myself of a good rest came flooding into my brains and before I could try to stop the tears from falling, they rolled down my cheeks-hot and itchy.
Slowly, I rose to my feet, my eyes still on the prints on the floor as I watched with my clouded eyes.
“Let’s go, boss,” I heard a man’s voice just right in front of me, prompting me to look up, and there he was, the man with the voice trying to pull another guy away from my front.
The guy he was trying to pull away has his right hand’s fingers holding on to his forehead and with a frown on his face and his eyes closed.
I traced my eyes down to his hands, and there it was — a coffee cup.
He was the one who poured coffee on my hard work.
I looked back in his face, and now he’s opened his eyes, and his hand dropped to his side. He shook the first guy’s hand off his body and looked at me with cruised eyebrows.
“Who are you?” he asked, directing it at me.
Rage surged through me.
He didn’t even apologize for what he did. He was asking me a very irrelevant question.
My hands slowly ball into a fist as I looked at the i***t.
He was tall, dressed in a sleek black suit that screamed money even without me knowing the make, but I’m sure it will be from a top brand like Aureum, for whom I’d just printed a proposal he had just destroyed.
“Have we met before?” He asked again, taking a step towards me, his right hand stretched towards me.
I couldn’t contain my anger anymore.
I’ve been so used to silence, but right now. Silence doesn’t seem to be the answer.
“Take another step towards me, and I will scream your brains out!”
He stopped coming towards me and dropped his hand.
Somehow, speaking up felt better.
I looked down at the smeared prints again.
Another wave of rage surge through me and this time, unstoppable.
Before he could mutter a single word, I exploded.
“You absolute moron! Do you have any idea of what you’ve just done? You’ve ruined everything, you entitled prick!”
- Writer
