Cornered

“You have no idea what you’re doing! Sub-par supervisor skills and poor teamwork capabilities. You have absolutely nothing to bring to the table and should probably find somewhere else to work.” The older man’s moustache flared.

           The supervisor’s rant had gone on like this for about 90 minutes. John’s words beat into Sara so thoroughly that she felt numb, physically and emotionally. The tears and anger stopped flowing about an hour ago.

           Sara’s hatred grew toward him and herself.

           “You will make your employees comply with the new regulations and enforce working on weekends. Round the clock if you have to until the project is done. You have to make up for the extra work at this point.”

           “But..”

           “There will be no overtime, and the ONLY answer I want to hear from you is Yes!”

           “Fine.” Sara mumbled.

           “I want to hear your answer!”

           “Fine.” Sara said firmly with no intention of following up on his ridiculous commands.

           “Now get out of here.” John snorted as he spun around in his chair. Sara left the office. Her only goal was to get out of the building before the tears started again.

           Bastard. Jerk. Screw work. Screw them all. She thought as she entered the elevator and pushed the button for the lobby.

           The mirrored walls revealed the red eyes, puffy face, and disheveled state of her clothes. Surrounded by infinite images of a washed up, worthless human being all looking back at Sara in absolute disgust.

           The doors began to close, only to open again abruptly at the introduction of a hand. A familiar, strong hand with leathery skin.

           This day couldn’t get any worse. Sara’s guts twisted.

           Sara stared at the floor as her boss pushed his way into the elevator.

           In a rush to get to the hospital to see his daughter, John hurriedly gathered his things and headed toward the elevator after Sara left his office. He saw her as he entered the elevator and felt a pang of dread.

           Sara is a capable professional, and she took my reprimand fairly well. She could do so much more if she just applied herself and took charge. I had to push her in the right direction.

           Sara stared at the floor, and the elevator lurched downward, taking Sara’s stomach with it. After a few moments, the lights shuddered, and the elevator slammed to a stop. The emergency lights flickered on.

           “What in the world? Did the power go out?” John pushed the lobby button repeatedly. Nothing happened.

           “Great. Just the thing to add to the day.” He said frustrated. Sara huddled in the corner, glaring at the floor.

           I can’t get away. I can’t do anything. Sara focused on keeping her breathing steady.

           John growled and pulled out his phone.

           “Great. Sara do you have a signal?” Sara pulled out her phone. NO SERVICE screamed at her from the top corner of the phone screen.

           “I’m sorry. I don’t have service either.” John pushed the emergency call button. A man’s grainy voice came through the speaker.

           “Hello, what is the nature of your emergency?”

           “Hi, yeah, we’re stuck in the east wing elevator between the fourth and fifth floors.”

           “Is everyone all right?”

           “Yeah, everyone’s fine in here.”

           “Help is on its way. About thirty minutes out.”

           “Thirty minutes?!”

           “Yes, sir. Thirty minutes is the ETA. The power is out in your area, and emergency services are responding to several traffic accidents. Please be patient.” The speaker clicked off.

           “Ridiculous. It shouldn’t take thirty minutes to get people out of an elevator.”

           Sara could hear ringing in her ears.

           “So, you have plans this weekend?” John asked in an attempt to break the silence.

           Sara glanced up and met his eyes in the mirrored reflection. She quickly diverted her gaze.

           “Nothing in particular.”

           “Sara, quit acting like that. You’ll never amount to anything that way. That’s why you can’t control your employees. You think you should be friends with everybody. This is work. These people are not your friends. You have no friends here.”

           If she would just toughen up, John thought to himself, she could do so much more if she would just take control of situations and use her authority to order people to get the job done.

           Sara silently stared at the floor. The tunnel vision took over, and all she could see was a black shoe skid on the floor. It morphed and changed shape. A snake. A mouse. A cockroach.

           “Give a response.” John commanded.

           “Yes, sir.” John could see Sara’s pulse in her neck, even in the reflection of the wall. He could see the whites of her eyes as she glared at some spot on the floor between them. She shut down like a robot.

           “That’s not what I was looking for.” He sighed. Sara’s reflection was tense. Don’t tell me she’s going to start shaking.

           Memories pummeled Sara’s consciousness. Thoughts and images flooded her mind. Her arms itched like her blood was on fire, but she dared not move. She couldn’t move. Sara used all her strength and focus to not show any weakness. Weakness meant death. Her heart throbbed in her stomach.

           John sighed in frustration. If only she’d stop shutting down.

           “I know you don’t like my opinion, but you can’t be friends with your employees. If they can’t do the work, then they need to work somewhere else or retire. It’s not your place to hold people up and baby them. Take Jerry for example. I understand his wife is sick, but if he takes any more time off, then he will be let go.”

           Sara felt her heart quiver, like butterfly wings beating in her chest. Jerry taught her everything he knew. How to navigate the ins and outs of her job. He helped her laugh when she wanted to cry. Sara was his boss, but Jerry had helped her out more than anyone else in the company.

           Sara’s eyes jerked up. John noticed the motion and turned around. Blue eyes pierced into black pupils.

           That’s an eerie look. John thought. Sara’s features were set. No emotions. No facial movements. Just blank eyes staring back. John felt sweat trickle down his neck.

           What is she thinking? And that was the last thought John ever had.