Two days later, the inevitable finally struck. The morning started with an uneasy heaviness that seemed to press down upon my chest, constricting my lungs with every breath. I forced myself through the motions of my usual routine, each step laden with dread. Breakfast tasted like cardboard, each bite sticking uncomfortably in my throat. I dressed mechanically, the knots in my stomach tightening painfully with every passing minute, anticipating another grueling day beneath Brenda’s oppressive presence.

  The commute felt even more suffocating than usual. Crowded into the bus, pressed tightly against other exhausted bodies, I struggled to breathe. My mind raced wildly, anxiety building like a rising storm. Each jolt of the bus intensified my panic, as I mentally rehearsed every possible confrontation, every scenario where Brenda’s anger exploded over some perceived incompetence.

  By the time I reached the office, my nerves were frayed, stretched taut to the breaking point. I approached my cubicle, settling uneasily into my chair. My heart thumped heavily against my ribcage, a relentless drumbeat of anxiety. My fingers trembled slightly as I logged into my computer, the screen illuminating my face with cold, unfeeling light.

  Moments later, the office seemed to hold its collective breath as Brenda appeared, a storm of rage advancing through the aisles. Her steps echoed like gunshots, sharp and merciless, sending shockwaves through my already battered nerves. My pulse quickened drastically, my palms becoming clammy with fear.

  “Joshua!” Brenda shrieked my name, piercing the tense silence. The harsh sound snapped violently against my ears, causing me to jump in terror. Every head in the office turned toward me, dozens of eyes filled with pity, relief, and morbid curiosity. My throat instantly went dry, words becoming trapped in the tightening vise of my panic.

  Brenda closed the distance rapidly, a stack of papers gripped tightly in her fist like weapons prepared for battle. Her eyes blazed with contempt, her face flushed red with barely restrained fury. She slammed the papers onto my desk, causing me to recoil as if physically struck. The documents scattered, sliding chaotically to the floor like dry leaves blown carelessly by an unforgiving wind.

  “What the hell is this garbage you submitted to me yesterday, This report shows incompetence at the highest level did you even proof read it?” Brenda roared, her voice trembling with barely contained rage. Her volume seemed to amplify with every word, echoing painfully inside my skull. My stomach churned violently, nausea threatening to overcome me. Panic clawed at my chest, restricting my breathing, each inhale becoming increasingly shallow and labored.

  “I—I did check them, Ms. Hartley,” I stammered weakly, my voice trembling embarrassingly. “Twice.”

  She leaned closer, eyes narrowing cruelly, face contorted into an expression of pure disdain. Her breath was hot, rank with coffee and malice, making me flinch. “Then you’re even more worthless than I thought,” she hissed venomously.

  This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  Every word hit like a physical blow, reverberating painfully inside my head. My thoughts scattered like frightened birds, panic escalating into full-blown fear. Brenda’s words sliced through my self-worth, leaving raw, open wounds of humiliation.

  “You’ve cost us money, time, patience, and worst of all made me look like an idiot infront of corporate.” Brenda sneered triumphantly, raising her voice for the entire office to hear clearly. “You’re done, Joshua! clear out your cubicle of all its worthless trash you are Fired! Security will be here shortly to remove you hopefully by force.”

  A deafening silence fell over the room, punctuated only by the relentless pounding of blood in my ears. My vision blurred momentarily, the room spinning sickeningly as shock crashed violently through me. Each breath became a desperate gasp, my chest heaving, unable to find sufficient air.

  Slowly, numbly, I rose from my chair, humiliation wrapping tightly around me, a suffocating blanket of shame. My limbs felt impossibly heavy, every movement a monumental effort. My hands shook uncontrollably as I gathered my meager belongings—an old coffee mug, a few worn pens, and a notebook filled with meaningless scribbles.

  Brenda stood by, arms crossed smugly, savoring my disgrace, her eyes glittering cruelly. As men in the blue livery of the cheap unarmed security that our office could afford walked up to stand on either side of me, bracketing me in. “Leave now,” she ordered sharply, her voice dripping with disgust. “And don’t come back.” I could barely hear the hyenna like laughter coming from the cubicles occupied by Brendas cronies over my heart beat in my ears.

  I stumbled forward, each step feeling precarious and uncertain. My coworkers averted their gazes hastily, unwilling or unable to meet my eyes, their pity palpable in the silence. The room felt impossibly large, the exit impossibly distant, every footstep echoing loudly in my ears, like a man headed to the gallows.

  Stepping outside into the cold air provided little relief. Panic still gripped me fiercely, my heart hammering wildly against my ribs, my breath coming in ragged, painful gasps. My thoughts spiraled chaotically, replaying Brenda’s words, her contempt-filled eyes, the derisive laughter that followed me out of the office.

  I wandered aimlessly down the street, feeling utterly lost, disoriented, unable to form coherent thoughts. Anger began mixing violently with the fear, burning hotly in my veins. Rage at Brenda’s cruelty, anger at myself for enduring such humiliation, frustration at my own perceived worthlessness.

  Hours passed as I roamed the city streets blindly, emotions oscillating wildly between panic, anger, and profound sadness. Eventually, exhausted, drained of every ounce of energy, I returned to my bleak apartment. Inside, the emptiness and silence swallowed me whole. I collapsed onto the couch, hands trembling uncontrollably, unable to still my racing mind.

  Every muscle in my body ached from the tension, my head throbbing painfully, nausea lingering persistently in my stomach. The panic gradually ebbed, leaving behind a hollow emptiness more profound than I’d ever known. Anger cooled into a dull resentment, despair settling heavily into my bones.

  Night fell, wrapping the apartment in suffocating darkness, mirroring my internal despair. I lay awake, sleep eluding me entirely, replaying every humiliating detail of the day. Each memory intensified the tight knot of anxiety and fear lodged deep in my chest.

  Finally, exhaustion claimed me, dragging me into restless, nightmare-ridden sleep. Yet even in dreams, Brenda’s cruellty chased me relentlessly, a haunting reminder of the day’s humiliation, the fear, and panic etched indelibly into my memory. And despite it all, buried beneath layers of despair, panic, and anger, a small, unexpected spark of relief flickered faintly within me.

  Finally, painfully, it was over.