The Rejected - Episode 1 of 9 (Urban Fantasy Dystopian Serial)

  Chapter 4

  Our team of programmers conducts weekly meetings. They are mostly boring but I don’t particularly mind, as long as I’m clear about my duties and I’m not called upon to speak too often. We assemble in the conference room and there is always free food provided. Claudette would usually go around the room and list the status of various tasks we are working on and discuss tasks for the next week. She also provides an overview of upcoming projects and priorities for the coming months. The objective of these meetings is team building and distributing the work. We decide on who is going to do certain parts, and then each of us would code the sections that we agreed to.

  “…so is everyone clear?” Claudette is hardly audible with the pizza she just stuffed in her mouth. She didn’t wait for much of a reply. “Great. Next week same time and place.” She gives a thumbs-up and devours the rest of her pizza.

  As I leave the room Claudette calls out to me then motions for me to have a seat. This is not the first time she’s done this. We have frequent chats about work related projects. I wait patiently until she is finished with her pizza. She moans at every bite. I have a feeling that eating is her stress reliever. This job is taking its toll. She wipes her mouth with a napkin and eyes me before she begins our chat.

  “That damn Q&A. You almost had it.” She surveys my reaction.

  I cringe as she continues.

  “It’s nothing to be embarrassed about.” She shrugs. “Not everyone has the public speaking gene.”

  “Well my presentation certainly proved that theory.” I pout.

  “I just wanted to let you know that the man who asked all those questions is a representative of one of our clients from the telecommunication sector. He had concerns about a possible blow back if we were ever accused of software theft. He meant no harm.” She explained.

  “Meant no harm?”

  I didn’t mean to erupt like that but it slipped out before I could stop myself. I can’t believe she is taking the side of that cad.

  “He was doing his job Sapphire. Take it from someone who has been there. You need to develop a thick skin in order to make it in this world. Stand up for yourself don’t expect anyone to take it easy on you. No one respects a pushover.” She lectured.

  She makes good points but she has no idea about what my problem really is. She doesn’t understand the crippling fear leading to the inability to form one coherent thought. Talk less of standing up to a bully like Adrian. I want to tell her. To explain myself so that she won’t give me that disappointed look. I wish I could tell her about Rafferty’s racist comment but what good would it do for either of us. Instead I stare at my hands and listen to her rebuke.

  People never understood. They only judged.

  “I’m sorry I let you down. I never meant to make you look bad.”

  “No, no, it’s not that. The last part was painful to watch but I actually enjoyed your presentation. I want you to be successful here and I don’t think it will happen with your current attitude.”

  I nod. I know she’s right.

  “I also wanted to tell you personally about a meeting we plan to have with a representative from an anti-piracy organization. It’s just to cover all our bases and to ensure that were in the clear with the software moving forward.”

  I’m still processing what she said.

  “So are you up to it?”

  “Sure, no problem.” I reply.

  She’s asking if this meeting with a maximum of four people will be a problem for me; after I made an entire fool of myself at the conference in front of two hundred people. Thanks Claudette.

  “Great!” She says, grabbing another slice of pizza.

  “Wait a minute. Will Adrian be there?”

  I need to ask.

  “And what if he is?” She retorts.

  “I’ll stand up for myself?” I question.

  “That’s my girl!” She beams.

  As I leave, I hear her moaning and chewing more junk food.

  I end up working with Natasha again, but on a project that’s really not as challenging as the last one. Rafferty would always whine when he realized that we were teaming up for projects. The idea of two of us sitting together and enjoying our work is upsetting to him. In the meeting he tried to persuade Claudette to have me work with him instead. Thankfully she brushed him off because Natasha and I produce work of a high quality. He is getting desperate in his attempts to sabotage me. Imagine working on a project with the devil himself.

  In my desk drawer I see my anxiety pills and I decide not to take any. I’ve done pretty well on my own so far. I wonder how long I can make it without my pills before I have a panic attack. Do I need these pills at all? I feel fine. I check my watch, it’s already eleven o’clock. As is my custom, I head to the kitchen for a cup of joe. I prefer to get my coffee now because it’s less crowded in the kitchen. I don’t do well with crowds.

  I just put the kettle on when the slime-ball Rafferty walks in.

  What is he is up to now?

  He meanders around the kitchen with his hands in his pockets, heading nowhere in particular. He looks in the direction of the ceiling.

  What on earth is he doing?

  The administrative assistant gets up to leave after she finishes her donut and orange juice. When we are alone, he approaches me.

  “Listen, I think you and I got off to a bad start. We should patch things up and start anew.” He has been mean to me for the past three years. What on earth is he talking about? His words were gentle and conciliatory. What is his angle here?

  “OK then…” I don’t know what else to say. Rafferty is offering peace. He must have a fever or something.

  “Would you like to go to lunch with me sometime?” I am visibly appalled.

  Does he think I forgot what he said to me about mungus staying in their place. I’d quicker remove my eyeballs with a spoon than go on a date with Rafferty the racist. Thinking about it made my blood crawl.

  “I don’t think that would be a good idea Rafferty.” I try to hide my disgust.

  In one swift movement Rafferty grabs both my wrists and pins them to my sides. He glares at me and his voice is cold and menacing.

  “Listen to me you ugly monkey bitch! You should jump at an opportunity to please me. Don’t you know we own you?”

  He is surprisingly strong and he is able to transfer both my wrists into one of his hands. He starts touching my face with the back of his free hand, while he pushes up against me. I almost gag. “I could do whatever I want with you right now and no one would care. You would probably get fired. It would be my word against yours.” He smirks. This type of thing was not unheard of. I then understand why he looked up at the ceiling. The repulsive man was checking for cameras. The one camera in the kitchen is conveniently pointed away from us.

  This was all planned.

  “Get the hell away from me! I am warning you Rafferty!” I am in total shock. I am not sure how to respond. Everyone knew the shetani had special privilege in the society but it was always under the surface. Even though mungus are discriminated against I have never seen racism so blatantly up close. His hand moves lower to my neck.

  “Stop touching me. I’ll scream. Leave me alone Rafferty!” I try to sound forceful as bile rises in my throat.

  “Give me a break; we both know you will never scream with your little phobia. Yes, I read your file. Will you have a panic attack right now?” He laughs.

  I feel hot tears rolling down my face and realize they are mine. He knows all my fears and how to push my buttons. I have to put up with his ridicule as well as his violation. How much can I take?

  He moves his hand slowly to my jugular notch.

  I’ve had my limit. I knee Rafferty in the groin with every fiber of strength I have. He releases my wrists as he winces in pain and I use this opportunity to slap him in the face.

  “Are you crazy? Don’t you ever come near me! Disgusting swine!” I am shouting and breathing hard
.

  He still invades my personal space when he recovers and tries to reach for me another time. I slap him again.

  Wait a minute; he doesn’t seem to be putting up much of a fight. Rafferty smiles and I realize that this is exactly what he wants. He provoked me because he intends to report the wounds I inflict on him. He grins knowing that he has all he needs to be rid of me for good.

  I watch him head for the door holding his face and I know that I am no longer an employee of MUST Inc.

  A familiar face is in Rafferty’s path.

  Adrian appears in the kitchen doorway and his eyes go from me to Rafferty, to me again. This is exactly what I need; two men who are out to get me.

  “Is there a problem here?” I’m too emotional and embarrassed to speak. I stare blankly at the floor breathing loudly.

  Adrian sums up the situation. “Did you cause this?” He is staring squarely at Rafferty.

  “The bitch attacked me.” Rafferty begins his elaborate lie. “She’s crazy. Out of the blu-”

  Adrian didn’t let him finish. Strong hands hold Rafferty by the scruff of his neck. He looks like a rag-doll or a defenseless puppy. He presses Rafferty against the wall and speaks in his ear.

  “So you like to molest women, huh?” Adrian speaks in a menacing whisper but I can still hear him from where I stand. Rafferty shakes his head in reply, unable to speak. I recognize his fear all too well.

  “Let me go man!” He tried to escape.

  “I could bet a punk like you never stood up to a man before.” Adrian glowered at him “Do you know what I do to cowards like you? Cowards who harass women?” Rafferty blinks. His face is red.

  “Say a word to anyone about this incident and you’ll find out.”

  Rafferty’s undignified circumstance did not help to ease my pain in the least. I wanted to tie him up, torture him and laugh while he cried out in excruciating pain. This is nowhere close to what he deserves.

  Adrian releases him. It’s time for lunch and employees will start to fill the kitchen soon. Adrian gently takes my shaking hand and escorts me to the entrance of the ladies washroom before people start to notice what transpired.

  “Thank you.” I croak through my sobs.

  “Are you OK? Do you need anything?”

  I nod in reply.

  “I could get you some water if you’d like.” He sounds as if he genuinely cares.

  Does he really? Is this the same person who tormented me a day ago?

  He disappears into the kitchen for a while to retrieve the hair clips that fell from me during the altercation. My hair is undoubtedly a mess. I try to brush it back with my hands and compose myself so that no one would notice and ask any questions.

  “Look at your umm...” He points to the buttons of my blouse. They are undone, exposing my bra. He looks away as I button them as quickly as my shivering hands can manage. I’m mortified.

  I didn’t get the chance to see him up close before. I use the opportunity while he’s looking away. He has a fine manly bone structure and considerable muscle mass around his chest and upper arms. His designer suit fits him perfectly yet he seems a bit out of place in it. I could easily picture him in jeans and a T-shirt. Maybe it’s because of the way he just aggressively defended me. I notice gentleness in his eyes when he returns his gaze.

  Am I checking out a guy after what just happened? What’s wrong with me?

  “Listen, you need to let someone know if he harasses you again.” He studies me.

  I quickly look away. I see a peep of the fury leveled at Rafferty. He is still upset. He hates Rafferty almost as much as I do.

  “Tell who? What will people think of me?” I say.

  I can’t believe I am being this vulnerable with a stranger, worst of all Adrian. He ponders my question for a moment as if trying to come up with the best answer.

  “You can tell me.” He says finally.

  The disbelief is displayed on my face before I can hide it. He sees it. He seems to see everything.

  “I’m serious. I know how to take care of guys like him.” He says.

  “OK.” I think of what Rafferty just put me through and my mood becomes bitter gain.

  “Do you know of that famous mungu rebel? Sapphire the healer.” He asks.

  Clearly he is attempting to take my mind off things so that I can cope with what just happened.

  I heard of her before in college when I did that mandatory criminology course. They call her Sapphire the witch. She was a famous rebel who led mungu riots but was never captured. It is rumored that she killed a few sector guards before fleeing the country. The textbooks are not at all kind to her. Every time she was spoken of in class, the students would look at me like I somehow perpetrated those crimes.

  “Yes, I’ve heard of her.” I say. “And I’m nothing like her. I have no idea why my father choose that name-.”

  “She was a special woman.” He said. “She did a lot for the mungu community. Your father was an intelligent man to name you after her.”

  His statement just confirmed that he is definitely not shetani. In that case it’s a great achievement for Adrian to hold his position. Most of the mungu men his age were in prison or dead.

  “What do you mean was? How do you know my father passed away?” I ask.

  “Because I just told you to tell someone if you are attacked again and your mind didn’t automatically think of your father.”

  “Thanks for all your help.”

  I enter the restroom to get myself together. Yet again he’s right.

  This man sees everything.