Friday Fodder – Self Worth

“You aren’t going anywhere! You work for me! I own you!”

It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. Jane fought to keep her chin up and her eyes open as the voice clawed to an octave higher. The stapler waving around her head looked like a magpie waiting to divebomb an unsuspecting victim.

This wasn’t the first time Lydia had threatened to hit Jane with the small mechanical device.

Lydia ranted and raved for at least another 20-minutes, not even seeming to take a breath between words. Behind thick glass framed with red plastic, her eyes became more bloodshot with each syllable.

Jane dissociated until the rant became muffled. Her life wasn’t supposed to end up like this – whittled down to nothing more than a bitter woman’s punching bag. Jane was a hard worker, but the harder she worked the more Lydia complained. It was like she was searching for mistakes. Nothing was ever good enough for Lydia.

Jane tried complaining to HR several times, but she was always met with the same old story:  Cut her some slack. She’s going through a tough time right now. Let her do what she wants. She produces results. Just be patient.

Lydia called the staff her “team” but was forever threatening to get a new team. So many good employees had left due to her tyrannical reign as a crazy malicious narcissist. Over the years, Jane had done her best to talk to Lydia to explain she wasn’t happy and that she wanted to try something new and refreshing. But the conversation somehow always ended up with Lydia yelling at Jane and threatening to have her black-listed from every company in the city if she ever dared to leave. So, Jane would be emotionally blackmailed into staying for years, sacrificing her own happiness and wellbeing in the process. Jane constantly walked on eggshells and always kept her head down in case she looked at Lydia the wrong way and set her off. Little by little what was left of Jane’s self-worth deteriorated.

“I can’t do this anymore!” Lydia’s voice cried out and she slammed the stapler down on a desk like a hammer. “I can’t deal with your abuse anymore!”

‘MY abuse?’ Something in Jane’s mind snapped, like the final break before a giant redwood crashes to the ground. What followed next felt like a dream. All of Jane’s fear drained out through the point of the toe in her shoes. 7-years of hazing and intimidation detonated and in a voice deeper and louder than Jane had ever spoken before in her life, she repeated, “I said I quit!”

Lydia lurched forward to physically grab Jane and stop her but Jane intercepted, wrapping her fingers around Lydia’s fat wrist. The stapler clattered against a chair, springing open and sending shards of unused staples everywhere. Lydia’s mouth gaped open sucking in air like a fish.

In one swift movement, Jane forced the hand to her side. Lydia’s other hand sprang up and contorted into claws, like a cat swiping at an enemy. Somehow, Jane was quicker. She caught the wrist and forced Lydia’s nails into her own flesh, raking it across her face. Lydia stumbled backward into a glass office door which clanged but didn’t break.

“I quit.” Jane wobbled toward her desk, her body teaming with adrenalin. All of her things, the few items she managed to bring in at the beginning, were already packed into a small bag. Two more seconds and her purse, phone, and handbag were scooped up.

“You can’t…” Lydia whimpered.

Jane turned away from the front door toward the ever deflating bully.  “Watch me,” she declared. And with that she walked out the door, never to return again.