Sunday, April 15, 2012

Enemy (Part 11)


I'm really grateful for all my supporters! I love you all!
And I hope you did well on that test, K ;)

Enjoy!
 (PS my Twitter account is CashmerePoison and my ask is ask.fm/CashmerePoisonx) feel free to ask, comment, or vote on the next upload!

Enjoy, again!
***

I wanted to kick those heels out of my feet and walk barefoot in the office, but I knew it was impossible. Majid didn't call me to his office, and there were three hours left of work. I guessed I was safe.

I wondered about how a person who was once a close friend -a confidant- could suddenly turn into a stranger, a person with whom no personal discussion interfered.
There was more, the stranger soon progressed into an enemy. I hoped it was a reverting cycle, turning back into that friend you were once close with. But one could only dream.

"Istatha May?" Mariam, an awkward and gawky intern said, interrupting my thought.
"Hala Mariam?" I replied, my face scrunched from the annoyance of the heels, I quickly shifted my expression into a smile.
"Umm ilistath Majid yabeech b maktiba." she replied softly, her black hair had covered her eyes for a second before she pushed it away.
"Kal3ada," I muttered, "mashkoora." I told her.

I walked in my toturous heels to Majid's office, almost ten feet away. I knocked on the door, act professionally, I thought.

"Tfa'6ilay." I heard him scream, great, and he'd been expecting me!
"Ilsalam 3alaikum." I said, closing the door behind me.
"W3alaikum ilsalam." he replied with a smirk, obviously enjoying humiliating me.
"Khathait ilhard copy, mashkoora. Sh'3lich zain."
"Mashkoor." I said nonchalantly.

He folded his hands on the desk and stared into my eyes, something was up with him. "Istatha May, umm ilemails ili 6arashnahum ams kanaw, interesting."
So he was going to speak in English, now?
"A7isch 3ndich ashyaa tgooleenha bas khaifa, 3adil?" he asked.
"Shrayek?" I blurted out. I put my fingers to my lips as soon as I realized what I had said.
He chuckled, "Shoofay, bakhali my email yomain, mani mchayek 3alaihum. 6arsheeli ili 7arich in those two days, oo mara7 arfa3 ay shay '6idich. Ay shay. 3ugub hal yomain anything you said will be used against you, okay?"

Why was he doing this? I thought about it silently.
"Ili a6arsha b hal yomain ra7 tgra 9a7?"
"Ee, bas mara7 agool shay. I9eer wala chini garee. A7s 3ndich potential, bas fee shay mwagfich, 7asaita it might help." Majid replied, more serious this time.
He handed me a piece of paper with his signature signed, it stated what he'd mentioned. It was a funny contract, but it meant a lot. I signed it. And I signed my copy of it.
"Okay, mashkoor." I said. I got up from my chair with the copy of the contract with me, "bas hatha 9a7?"
"Ee, bas hatha." he concured.

I nodded and headed back to my cubicle and opened my email. My fingers tingled in excitement. I could write anything. I took a deep breath and composed a new message, I typed automatically, as if my sub-conscious and heart were in charge instead of me.

Subject: Vent?

Majid, or Istath Majid.
My work was fine until you showed up. The events that happened don't feel like they happened two years ago. It feels like they happened two days ago.
What you did to me did affect me, I trusted you as a friend and you betrayed me. How can I trust you as my boss now?
I hate to drag personal matters in my work life, but this is an imminent choice, if that's possible. It's hard to look at you each day like we had no past, like we never were friends.
It's hard to look at you while you look at me like nothing happened. Unlike you, it was and still is hard for me. Two years isn't enough.
You dissapeared and the only apology left was "sam7eeni". That's it. Your only attempt to gain my trust  back. You still don't have my trust.
You are right, I do have potential, but the only obstacle here is you.

I poured my heard out in this e-mail, almost everything I wanted to say was in this e-mail. I smiled at myself in pride and took a deep breath. There was only one thing I could do.
Click send.

I contemplated my decisions, but then I remembered, he won't hold anything against me. He couldn't fire me. My fingers ached to click the "Send" button.
And I did.

My stomach did mutliple flips as if in the Olympics, I put the e-mail thoughts aside as I worked on the remaining documents for the day.
My eyes glanced at the screen, One New E-Mail.
My heart skipped a beat,

Upcoming surprises from Pottery Barn!

I laughed in relief. I was being paranoid.The screen lit up again.

One New Email.

Re: Vent?

No comments:

Post a Comment