Chapter no 36 – ONE MONTH EARLIER

The Coworker

To: Vixed Employees From: Kimberly Healey Subject: Ketchup

Okay, so two days ago, the bottle of ketchup I keep in the fridge was half full and today it was gone! The bottle was CLEARLY labeled with my name. If you want to use ketchup, I suggest you BRING YOUR OWN. I don’t steal anyone else’s food, so please do me the same respect and don’t steal mine!!!!!

Kim

To: Vixed Employees From: Dawn Schiff Subject: Re: Ketchup

I am extremely sorry that your ketchup went missing. Today was a green food day for me and yesterday was a white food day, so clearly I could not be responsible for the missing condiment as it would have destroyed the integrity of the

meal. However, I wish to point out that if we created a schedule for refrigerator cleaning and maintenance, we could ensure that the contents of the fridge are protected and also disposed of in a timely manner.

Sincerely, Dawn Schiff

To: Mia Hodge From: Dawn Schiff

Subject: Re: Greetings

Dear Mia,

Today has been the worst day since I came to work at Vixed.

I need to talk to someone about it, or I fear my brain will explode. And I need to remember this day, so if I ever am tempted to be friendly to Natalie, I’ll have a reminder of what she’s capable of. And I’ll know to stay far away from that woman.

My desk and my cubicle are carefully arranged and decorated. I’m a clean person, so I maintain everything in a very organized fashion. I don’t have any photographs arranged in my workspace, but my main decorative elements are the plant I got (the iris) which is blooming beautifully and barely bothers my allergies, then the glass turtles surrounding it, one ceramic turtle, and then a stuffed turtle with big anime eyes. In total, there are ten turtles of various sizes. It comforts me to keep all those turtles in my workspace. They don’t get in the way. And even though when Seth sees them, he always says, “Jesus,” it’s not that big a deal.

So I can’t comprehend why she did this to me.

When I came to work this morning, the first thing I noticed was that my plant was toppled. There was dirt scattered all over my workstation. But that was fine. I don’t even like plants that much, although I was annoyed I would have to clean up the mess.

But then I noticed the turtles.

The glass ones were all smashed to bits. The arms and legs were in pieces on my desk and the floor. The ceramic one was broken into three large chunks. They were all destroyed. Unsalvageable.

I could have possibly convinced myself that it was an accident on the part of the janitorial staff. Perhaps they were cleaning my desk and got overzealous, although the extent of destruction hinted that it was purposeful. Still, I was willing to try to believe it.

But then I saw my stuffed turtle.

It was lying on its back, overturned onto its shell. A slit had been cut down the center of its belly. And there was a red liquid leaking out.

Like blood.

When I saw that, I screamed.

Everyone came running. Within a few seconds, the entire office had gathered around my cubicle to observe the gruesome crime scene. My heart was slamming in my chest and tears were gathering in my eyes. The only thing that kept me holding it together was your voice in my ear. Don’t give them the satisfaction of letting them see you cry.

Don’t…

Nobody was as horrified as I was. A few people were snickering and one person called out, “Look! There’s fake blood on the turtle! That’s so cool!”

I started shouting at them then. I screamed at everyone that these were my turtles and this was NOT cool. I didn’t stop screaming until I heard Natalie’s voice telling me to calm down.

“It’s just some toy turtles,” she said. “You had too many of them anyway. It was an eyesore.”

She was never at work this early, but somehow today she got in before I did. The whole time I worked here, I was trying to be friends with Natalie. But I don’t want to be her friend anymore. I want to scratch her eyes out. Except my fingernails are too scrawny. She would have a much easier time scratching out my eyes with her long red nails.

I heard Seth’s voice through the crowd, and people parted to let him come through. I was glad he was coming. I had already told him multiple times about what Natalie was doing to me, and he never listened. He kept telling me to work it out on my own. But now he would see with his own eyes what she was capable of, and he would be forced to take action.

“Jesus,” Seth said when he saw my desk. “Dawn, you’ve got to get this cleaned up.”

I couldn’t believe it. Seth thought that I did this to my own turtles? I told him in no uncertain terms that my desk had been vandalized, except he still didn’t seem that upset about the whole thing. He acted like it was a silly prank—no big deal. Finally, I said I wanted to talk to him in private, in his office. He wasn’t happy about it, but he agreed.

The crowd parted again to give us room to walk away. I was glad to get away from my cubicle. I didn’t know how I would ever be able to go back there again.

As I passed Natalie’s cubicle on the way down the hall, I noticed she had put her trash bin right by the entrance. I glanced down and I saw an empty bottle of ketchup inside— the same one Kim complained was missing yesterday. She threw out the evidence in plain sight, right where I was sure to see it.

She wanted me to know it was her.

I was barely keeping it together by the time I got to Seth’s office. But I had to maintain my composure so he would take me seriously. He would write me off if I was a sobbing mess. As it was, he seemed more put out that I wanted to talk to him, even though the real issue was that one of his employees was targeting me.

“Natalie did this,” I told him, even before he sat down in his leather chair.

He just shook his head. He didn’t believe it, even as I laid out the evidence. The way Natalie had been lying about times of meetings, how she threw out my cupcakes, and then the bottle of ketchup in the trash bin. Seth was unimpressed.

“Maybe she was eating something with ketchup,” he said.

I was so frustrated. I wasn’t going to let him do this to me

—not again. I explained again about how she’s been targeting me. That she hates me. That she wanted me to see that ketchup so I would know she was the one who did it. Except he just kept saying that it couldn’t be her and that I was being paranoid. He kept insisting it was probably the janitors.

“Why won’t you believe me?” I demanded to know. “Is it because you’re sleeping with her? Is that why you always give her preference?”

Seth did not like me saying that. His mouth fell open and a bright red color crept into his cheeks. I had been trying to keep my mouth shut about the whole thing, but it was too frustrating. I had to say something.

Seth started babbling on and on, trying to cover the fact that I was absolutely right. He pointed at the photo on his desk, of himself with the plain-faced middle-aged woman, explaining how he’s married and so of course he wouldn’t sleep with Natalie. And then he reminded me she’s dating Caleb. By the time he finished, his whole face was scarlet, and he looked at me like he was expecting me to take it back.

But I didn’t take it back. I mean, it’s true.

So then he said, “I’m your boss. You shouldn’t speak to me this way. It’s really inappropriate.”

I was sure the next words out of his mouth would be, “You’re fired.” I was waiting for it. I’ve been fired from every job I’ve ever had. I was fired once on my first day of work. It was in college and I got a job at a shoe store. I was trying to help a customer and I got so overwhelmed with all the shoe choices and their demands, I ended up locking myself in the storeroom and crying.

But Seth didn’t fire me. He just turned away from me, toward his computer screen, and he didn’t look at me as he told me to go back to my desk and clean up the mess. He said I should work things out with Natalie, and he didn’t want to hear about it anymore. “I’ve got a business to run,” he said.

I could have stayed and demanded justice, but that would’ve been pointless. Seth wasn’t going to do anything. Whether or not he’s still sleeping with Natalie, he obviously likes her a lot. Much more than me. After all, nobody likes me. I know, I know—you like me. But it’s not enough. Not while you’re not here. If you were here, maybe I could deal with this.

But you’re not.

So I got up and went back to my cubicle. The crowd had dispersed, leaving behind the turtle crime scene. I was the one who had to clean it up. I had to dispose of the plant and all the pieces of my beloved turtle figurines.

But before I cleaned it up, I took a photograph. I’m pasting it below so you can see what that woman is capable of.

Sincerely, Dawn Schiff