Protection

High

ZAHRA'S POV

I loved my office. It was small but it was more than enough for me. The interior consisted of a black leather seat that was so comfortable I could easily fall asleep in it. In front of me was an empty see through plastic stool that matched the white black aesthetic in the room, but the bloody marble table with my laptop ruined the whole vibe reminding me of the job this was. I took a quick look at all the tasks I had for today and quickly got lost in the work. It was my second day and this job was no different from high school with deadline after deadline. In difference to high school, I had no motivation but here money is my only motivation making the work bearable enough.

Disturbing my peace I got a call on my Mac from some unknown number.  You can call people on this computer? So cool I got exited but it quickly faded away when I realized I had to one to call. The caller id along with the unknown number flashed on the right side of my computer not stopping for a second. I hesitantly pressed the green button not knowing what to expect after all the horror story's on the internet about unknown numbers in the US.

"Bring me my black coffee" Zayan's voice called out in a strict voice ending the call before I even got a chance to answer back, rude.

I stood up gathering my alert nerves trying my best to relax my beating heart. I took a look at the clothes I was wearing. Still baggy as always. I brushed off the invincible dust from my pants suddenly feeling self-conscious about my body and the clothes I wore. No, I refuse to change myself, I don't care what he says if he has anything against my clothes then he can fire me. I am not stripping for him, I am not bending my religious morals for him.

I walked to his office lightly stumbling upon air barely managing to hold the warm cup of coffee in my hand that seemed to warm my cold sweaty palms. There was a little corner at the end of the corridor with a coffee machine so it wasn't that difficult to find it.

Standing in front of his door the letters ZAYAN AWAN CEO was in front of me. I took a last breath inhaling the oxygen and breathing it all out. I knocked on the door quickly hearing a sloppy "come in".

I opened the door and walked further into the big office putting the cup in front of him on his shiny mahogany table. He had his eyes covered with his fingers seeming very tired, his defined cheeks a hint of red.

He won't notice me if I ran right? I went for it and turned my back ready to run out of this room that seemed to suffocate me with his presence
"Where are you going?" I heard a dark exhausted
voice.

"My office room"

"Come here" I turned around facing him, his eyes blood red like he just drowned in dish soap with his eyes wide open. He was sniffing air repeatedly seeming a bit weird wiping his nose with the hem of his shirt. This is not what a tired person looks like.

"Sit down," he said and I hesitantly sat down, his eyes reminding me of my dad. A weird urine kind of smell mixed with smoke radiated from him.

He is high. Memories from childhood flashed through my vision smelling that familiar smell ending with my naked dad in the bathtub with white foam all around his face, needles spattered all around the tiles.

Suddenly a bang on the table was heard like was an undisciplined child.

"I am talking to you! Next time you zone out like that in front of me I will be your worst nightmare"

He was already a scary-looking man but those red eyes and his yelling made him look even more scarier.

"Understood?"

"Y-yes"

"What's the schedule for the day"

I wrote it all down on the computer but I can't seem to remember anything. It was like a blanket was wrapped around my brain not letting me think any further.