1 Don't get bitter, just get better

I had reached the tip of the iceberg. My emotions were all over the place, or maybe I was too calm.

My mind drifted.

College life was a piece of my life that I will always remember. I was fortunate to be admitted to one of the top schools in my city. I can recall how extremely apprehensive I was, on my most memorable day since I figured seniors would menace freshers. Instead, my seniors invited me energetically and provided me with a visit through the entire school as well. During this visit, I became friends with some of my first years and seniors as well. The years went by really fast. During our break times, we would welcome each other with pride and partake in parties and activities; had a ton of fun. Some of the time, our teachers would scold us during class for going on and on exploits.

I love my school life. I had constantly esteem for these astounding recollections. However, sadly nothing had prepared me for this. After graduation, I had it rough trying to get a job. Either the job did not pay as much, or I did not have enough experience for the job given. After thirty-one interviewers, tries and failures, I thought I had finally gotten the job I wanted. The interviewer seemed simple, but the pay was great and I was finally getting the chance to utilize my expertise.

Nothing had prepared me for this. I do not think there was a syllabus for this at college with way. Be that as it may, I sat in my chair staring at this tomfoolery staring down back at me. The first days at my new job were great, no, perfect. I guess that was the calm before the storm.

It became clear to me over a couple of months, that my current boss was nuts. With all the progress I was making, I felt defeated more times over. I still couldn't believe that this is how my life would be staring back at me.

I sat nonchalantly staring at my boss.

She was yelling about something, but I seemed to forget about what exactly it was. Her expression was just enough to tell me I was upsetting her more, and my expressionless face was more than enough to put her on edge.

I had a boss that totally couldn't stand me. Soon after I started working, I realized that she was not equipped for the position, and the only reason she was the acting CEO was that she had slept with the owner of the business, despite him being married.

I had reached the determination she was a joke and simply need to be excused. I figured much or less she was blackmailing him with their past relationship, but who cared?

I never gave a lot of consideration to her and when she'd appear at my desk once every blue moon, I sort of overlooked her. I was occupied and lacked the opportunity to play her games, but she thought otherwise.

Her moods would change within minutes. Sometimes she was tolerable, other times she yelled at you in front of other employees. One thing, she made sure of is that she was never wrong. A pity she didn't know how stupid it made her look.

She would constantly undermine me by asking the other accounting personnel what they thought about my report rather than consulting me. I was told multiple times I didn't know what I was doing and that even if I do that I would never get a raise.

One time that she wanted me to bring her some specific outlandish reports. I end up working longer hours just to get those reports done and for her to shoot them down. I was never recognized or compensated for that. She also had these quarterly meetings with the other managers, to which I was never invited.

She even wrote me up for being late on three different occasions. I had to leave home two hours early to beat traffic just to reach on time. I could not believe it when the letter stated I had been tardy, taking away one or two minutes of the company's time.

Petty, I thought.

Despite I called her, explaining my situation and on each occasion why I would be late. She still gave me those letters. So I began leaving home insanely early. I would get in early and leave early. She couldn't stand it.

Now, I remember what she was arguing about. She could not afford my insane early hours, better yet, did not what to rightfully pay me what was due to me.

I stared at the ginger, short hair neatly coiffured to reveal a bony, sad face. Shuttered amber eyes, set low within their sockets. Her posture showed her irritation at me, as I continue to just look up at her. There's something irregular about her, perhaps it's a feeling of regret, or perhaps it's simply her hatred.

"Are you listening," slamming the papers in front of me on my desk. I glanced at the papers and back at her.

"What?" I mustered. Her eyes winced at my answer.

"I said," trying her best to sound more dominant. "You cannot come to work at these extravagant hours. You have specific hours to work, nothing more, nothing less."

"Okay, Miss. Basher." I sighed, my cup was overflowing. "Can I leave early then?"

"No," she pouted.

"Can I extend my lunchtime?"

"No."

"Can I ...," she interrupted me.

"No, Miss. Harrison!" she shouted, as she slammed both hands on my desk.

"Yet, I cannot come to work two minutes late," I said looking at her hands, and raised my eyes to meet her gaze. I looked at her intently. Our gaze never drifted apart, even after she remove her hands slowing off my desk and fold it to her chest. There were no words necessary, I knew her intentions and my resolve were just the same.

"Not my fault you can't reach work on time," she stated.

What reason did I give her to pick on me? Did I look soft, unresolved? Or was I a threat?

I sighed. Maybe it was the time when she ask my gay male coworker what herpes looked like. He came to me asking, I was clueless and told him to google it. The following day after that she came in crying. She had gotten a phone call from her doctor saying that she did indeed have herpes. By the end of the day, everyone in the office knew.

Maybe she thought I was the one who gossiped. Great.

"Oh, since you brought that up, each time you're late, half an hour I'll be deducted from your paychecks," she perked lips at me. All I could hear were glasses cracking in my head. I half-crooked a smile and got up.

"You just said I have specific hours to work, nothing more, nothing less. So why not pay me the time allocated then," I said holding my nerves together. Honestly, not all of this was about money, but the way she treat staff was demeaning and I was not going to be part of that club.

"Do you think your tardiness is acceptable and you're better than everyone else? Maybe next time I should fire you." Miss. Basher said swinging her left hand on her hip.

'Yeah', I said to myself. I had enough of her mood swings. One minute she was nice because she wanted a report from me, the other time was because she wanted to drive me up the wall.

"What's this?" I indicated my gaze to the papers that she slammed on my desk earlier.

"Oh, these. I need them early by tomorrow morning for a quarterly meeting, I guess you should get to those."

'Don't get bitter, just get better,' I said to myself. After months of these verbal threats, there was no more space in my vault.

I reach for the drawer that my handbag was in and began packing the few things that were on my desk.

"What... what are you doing?" I heard Miss. Basher, voice stuttered. I pause for a moment and looked at her.

"I quit," I said. It simply left my lips. I felt relieved, just at peace. I no longer had to come to this place and deal with the pent-up aggression of a rogue cat.

"No... you can't!" Miss Basher proclaimed.

"Why can't I ?" Continuing to pack my bag, rather calmly. "You're the human version of my period cramps, and my own do not come so frequently. I no longer want to keep cleaning the mess. I need pads, not tampons, your toxic shock syndrome is getting out of hand." I uttered.

"Ugh, what the hell you just say to me."

I slammed my hands on the desk.

"I quit! I am sick and tired of you treating me like a garage!" I sighed, why should I even bother to try to explain myself to her?

'No, Soraya, you should just get better,' I grabbed my bags and walked passed her. I proceed to exit the building.

"You can't leave! I need that report tomorrow, you can leave then. But I need you to finish it!" she hollered at me. I saw people trying to glance to see what was happening but I did not care.

I saw Peter, slightly gazing over his office cubicles, with his eyebrow on his forehead. I could see his thin brown eyes, defined cheekbones, and round face. He was wearing natural-colored blush, an unnatural-looking foundation, natural-colored lipstick, and dark eyeliner. He had been my best friend since I joined this madhouse.

I saw his thin lips move. 'You quit?' He asked.

I mouthed, ' Yeah', with excitement on my face. He covers his mouth with his hands trying to hide his grin.

"Miss. Harrison!" I paused in my tracks. Her voice was loud for everyone to hear. "Stop this right now! I will accept your apology and forget this ever happened. Just returned to your station and finish this report." She commanded.

I spun around slightly to face her and placed my index finger on my chin as if I had an inquiry.

"Do you hear that?" Placing my hand on my ear as if I was trying to hear something. Everyone peeked inquisitively about what was happening. The office floor was so quiet you could hear a phone vibrating.

"Oh right!" I aimed my voice at Miss. Basher. I placed one hand on my hip.

I looked at her intently, then smiled. "It's the sound of me not caring."

With that, I turned and left the office.