Falling victim to humanity treating you horribly based on what you were born with is terrible. It's disgusting how you'll find people treating each other based soley upon what they look like, believing you can do to them whatever you please and them being forced to accept it. It makes you ashamed to be associated with them, horrified that you have to inhabit the same planet they do. It makes you want to get back at them.
I woke up to the sound of my alarm going off. I opened my eyes and turned on my phone. It was a few minutes before six in the morning. I didn't want to leave the warmth of my bed, my body caught in the afterglow of a peaceful slumber. I wanted so badly to close my eyes and drift back to sleep, as it would be so easy to, but I knew I needed out of bed. I had to shower before work.
I grabbed some clothes I'd set out for myself the night before and headed into the bathroom. I checked my hair in the mirror and was horrified to find that it was all over the place. I don't know how I can sleep this roughly. It was going to be a painful nightmare trying to get this mess untangled. I threw my clothes to the side and hopped in the shower.
After I got out, I threw on my clothes, combed my hair and did my daily routine with my teeth and makeup before grabbing my keys and heading out to work. I dreaded coming in to work so early, but it was the only shift available. I was just thankful it was one of the easiest shifts to work, as it wasn't near as busy as it is when lunch hits.
I opened the door to the restaurant and flicked the lights on. I sat my purse and coffee on the break table and went to the kitchen to power on all the appliances.
It didn't take long before I heard the front door open. I looked over the counter to see who it was. It was James, the other opening cook. The way opens worked here was to ensure that, if the kitchen was left a mess, that they both would help clean. Also to ensure that the restaurant was ready for customers to come flooding in the doors at the time we actually opened.
Today there was something off about James. There was a look in his eye when he saw me that terrified me. I asked him what was wrong but he didn't respond. He continued helping me open, moving as if agitated about something. After he threw a towel and nearly hit me with it, I went up to him, asking again what his problem was.
He took one look at me as though he was about to say something, but he instead grabbed my arm and lead me over to the walk-in cooler and shut the door behind us. I struggled to fight back, to get the door open, to get away from him, but his grip on my arm was far to strong for me to resist. He slid his hand from my arm to my wrist and brought my hand down toward his body. I felt my hand almost touch something. He leaned in to kiss me but I used my free hand to slap him across the face.
He used his free hand to grab the back of my head and force our faces to touch. I tried so hard to scream for help, but his mouth was pressed so close to mine that I couldn't open it all the way. I was completely panicked, I needed to get out of this.
Just then, the door behind us swung open. There behind the door stood our manager. James let his grip go and put his hands back to his sides.
"What the hell is going on here?" he demanded. I'd never seen him this mad.
I was about to say something but James spoke over me. "She just came in this morning and lured me into the walk-in to try and have s*x with me."
I was pissed, what the hell was he trying to pull? I tried speaking up but my boss wouldn't even give me the time to speak. I tried to get out that he forced me in there, but nobody would give me a moment to talk. Tears began to well up in my eyes. I tried to fight them back but they were coming either way.
He fired the both of us for misconduct. As we were both walking away, I heard the boss say under his breath, "She deserved what she got for always dressing that way."
I turned right around, marched up to him and raised my hand to slap him across the face as hard as I could. He grabbed my hand before I could follow through.
"Don't you think about it missy," he said. "I'll have the police called on you."
I was too mortified by the situation I'd just faced to say anything, so I just went out to my car and drove. As I was driving I tried so hard to fight back tears. The thoughts were firing through my mind faster than I could catch up to them. How the hell did this even happen? Why did I have to lose my job over something that asshole did to me?
That's when an even darker thought began creeping into my head. One that the harder I tried to fight it back the harder the tears came, "Was all of this my fault?" I knew with everything in me that it wasn't but at the same time, the thought wouldn't leave me alone. It haunted me, even as I walked into my apartment.
I grabbed my phone and crawled into bed with a box of tissues. I knew all this crying was ruining my makeup, but there was nothing I could do to stop it.
I kept having flashbacks to that moment of being dragged in the cooler. I felt so angry, I fought back as hard as I could but it was no use. There was nothing I could do to stop it from happening but my mind wouldn't listen. It all happened so quickly. He forced me to kiss him. The way my heart was racing, was I enjoying it? Absolutely not, I was repulsed by it.
I didn't know what feelings to feel, anger, sadness, pain? Only the darkest of emotions swirling through my system. I should have fought back harder. I should have torn his face, or other parts, off. I should have done so much more.
As the thoughts and emotions swept over me, all I could do was crawl in bed and try not to think about it. It was only making me feel worse.
I grabbed my phone and texted my best friend Erika. I tried to tell her what happened but I knew she had work going on, I didn't want to make her worry about me all day at work. I debated about telling my parents, but it was far too embarrassing to explain a situation like that to them.
I looked over to the clock. Had it really been that long? It was nearly seven at night. I had been in bed all day. I needed to get out of bed and do something. Maybe I should get something to eat. Yeah, that would make me feel better.
I walked over to the mirror in my bathroom and saw I had mascara running down my face. I grabbed a wet towel and wiped it all off. There's no way I'd go out looking like that. Afterword, I check myself and threw on a baggie hoodie before heading out the door. After the experience I had, I didn't want unwanted eyes checking me out.
After getting my food, I noticed some people yelling at each other on the way back. There was a girl in the car and a guy that wouldn't leave her alone. I didn't know what I should do, help her out or keep driving. What if I was that girl, I'd want someone to help me. I was about to get out of the car, but I saw him get onto the road. He was walking over to her driver side door, in the middle of the road.
As he walked over I caught a look at his face. James.
I knew exactly what I had to do. I revved my engine and drove toward him. He caught one look at me and started to run but it was too late. He fell to the ground and I felt a huge bump as I ran him over.
I woke up to the sound of my alarm going off. I opened my eyes and turned on my phone. It was a few minutes before six in the morning. I didn't want to leave the warmth of my bed, my body caught in the afterglow of a peaceful slumber. I wanted so badly to close my eyes and drift back to sleep, as it would be so easy to, but I knew I needed out of bed. I had to shower before work.
I grabbed some clothes I'd set out for myself the night before and headed into the bathroom. I checked my hair in the mirror and was horrified to find that it was all over the place. I don't know how I can sleep this roughly. It was going to be a painful nightmare trying to get this mess untangled. I threw my clothes to the side and hopped in the shower.
After I got out, I threw on my clothes, combed my hair and did my daily routine with my teeth and makeup before grabbing my keys and heading out to work. I dreaded coming in to work so early, but it was the only shift available. I was just thankful it was one of the easiest shifts to work, as it wasn't near as busy as it is when lunch hits.
I opened the door to the restaurant and flicked the lights on. I sat my purse and coffee on the break table and went to the kitchen to power on all the appliances.
It didn't take long before I heard the front door open. I looked over the counter to see who it was. It was James, the other opening cook. The way opens worked here was to ensure that, if the kitchen was left a mess, that they both would help clean. Also to ensure that the restaurant was ready for customers to come flooding in the doors at the time we actually opened.
Today there was something off about James. There was a look in his eye when he saw me that terrified me. I asked him what was wrong but he didn't respond. He continued helping me open, moving as if agitated about something. After he threw a towel and nearly hit me with it, I went up to him, asking again what his problem was.
He took one look at me as though he was about to say something, but he instead grabbed my arm and lead me over to the walk-in cooler and shut the door behind us. I struggled to fight back, to get the door open, to get away from him, but his grip on my arm was far to strong for me to resist. He slid his hand from my arm to my wrist and brought my hand down toward his body. I felt my hand almost touch something. He leaned in to kiss me but I used my free hand to slap him across the face.
He used his free hand to grab the back of my head and force our faces to touch. I tried so hard to scream for help, but his mouth was pressed so close to mine that I couldn't open it all the way. I was completely panicked, I needed to get out of this.
Just then, the door behind us swung open. There behind the door stood our manager. James let his grip go and put his hands back to his sides.
"What the hell is going on here?" he demanded. I'd never seen him this mad.
I was about to say something but James spoke over me. "She just came in this morning and lured me into the walk-in to try and have s*x with me."
I was pissed, what the hell was he trying to pull? I tried speaking up but my boss wouldn't even give me the time to speak. I tried to get out that he forced me in there, but nobody would give me a moment to talk. Tears began to well up in my eyes. I tried to fight them back but they were coming either way.
He fired the both of us for misconduct. As we were both walking away, I heard the boss say under his breath, "She deserved what she got for always dressing that way."
I turned right around, marched up to him and raised my hand to slap him across the face as hard as I could. He grabbed my hand before I could follow through.
"Don't you think about it missy," he said. "I'll have the police called on you."
I was too mortified by the situation I'd just faced to say anything, so I just went out to my car and drove. As I was driving I tried so hard to fight back tears. The thoughts were firing through my mind faster than I could catch up to them. How the hell did this even happen? Why did I have to lose my job over something that asshole did to me?
That's when an even darker thought began creeping into my head. One that the harder I tried to fight it back the harder the tears came, "Was all of this my fault?" I knew with everything in me that it wasn't but at the same time, the thought wouldn't leave me alone. It haunted me, even as I walked into my apartment.
I grabbed my phone and crawled into bed with a box of tissues. I knew all this crying was ruining my makeup, but there was nothing I could do to stop it.
I kept having flashbacks to that moment of being dragged in the cooler. I felt so angry, I fought back as hard as I could but it was no use. There was nothing I could do to stop it from happening but my mind wouldn't listen. It all happened so quickly. He forced me to kiss him. The way my heart was racing, was I enjoying it? Absolutely not, I was repulsed by it.
I didn't know what feelings to feel, anger, sadness, pain? Only the darkest of emotions swirling through my system. I should have fought back harder. I should have torn his face, or other parts, off. I should have done so much more.
As the thoughts and emotions swept over me, all I could do was crawl in bed and try not to think about it. It was only making me feel worse.
I grabbed my phone and texted my best friend Erika. I tried to tell her what happened but I knew she had work going on, I didn't want to make her worry about me all day at work. I debated about telling my parents, but it was far too embarrassing to explain a situation like that to them.
I looked over to the clock. Had it really been that long? It was nearly seven at night. I had been in bed all day. I needed to get out of bed and do something. Maybe I should get something to eat. Yeah, that would make me feel better.
I walked over to the mirror in my bathroom and saw I had mascara running down my face. I grabbed a wet towel and wiped it all off. There's no way I'd go out looking like that. Afterword, I check myself and threw on a baggie hoodie before heading out the door. After the experience I had, I didn't want unwanted eyes checking me out.
After getting my food, I noticed some people yelling at each other on the way back. There was a girl in the car and a guy that wouldn't leave her alone. I didn't know what I should do, help her out or keep driving. What if I was that girl, I'd want someone to help me. I was about to get out of the car, but I saw him get onto the road. He was walking over to her driver side door, in the middle of the road.
As he walked over I caught a look at his face. James.
I knew exactly what I had to do. I revved my engine and drove toward him. He caught one look at me and started to run but it was too late. He fell to the ground and I felt a huge bump as I ran him over.
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