A Change of Heart

Chapter 3

The tall glass doors look even more intimidating than usual. I can already feel the icy air from here. Someone must have asked to turn down the AC.

All I want to do is run. I don't know where, probably until I get lost in this busy city. Anywhere except here, especially now.

It feels like winter in the building. I can see everyone shivering. My cubicle walls are frosted, nothing new.

I sit down and start working as always. Once I feel my stomach rumble, I take out my food. I usually just pack a sandwich because it's one of the easiest foods to eat while typing. You know, since we don't get breaks and all that.

"Howard, Ms. Clieves wants to speak with you," her personal assistant says. I quickly walk to her office to get away from the cold.

"You called?" I ask, as she faces the giant window of the city.

"Howard, come here," she says. Welp. I'm definitely dead. Seems that Joanna wanted to punish me at work. I hope she fires me.

I walk over to her desk. She gets up from her chair and stares at me. It's not her usual icy death glare. It's different, her eyes show a glimpse of... hunger?

"Ms. Clieves, what do you need?" I ask, getting nervous.

"Remember last night when you kissed me?" she says. I blush, remembering that moment.

"Well... I didn't hate it. In fact... I want you to kiss me again," she mumbles. I'm surprised by her tone. Usually she sounds cold and emotionless, but now she sounds way shyer and more vulnerable.

"You want me to kiss you?" I ask.

"Yes dammit!" She yells, nervously. I'm too nervous to touch her, worried about the consequences if I make the wrong move. She seems to understand the fear going on in my mind. She puts my hands on her waist, staring passionately. She undoes a few buttons on her blouse, exposing her giant chest.

"Feel more comfortable now?" she asks. I bring her in close and kiss her. I guide her lips while taking her breath away. I move my hands lower, squeezing her ass. I can feel a voice yelling at me to stop, to let go. I try to stop myself, but my sinful desires take over me. She starts moaning, increasing my desire for her.

I wrap her legs around my waist, setting her on the table and continuing. After what feels like an eternity of pleasure, she pushes me away. Her lipstick's smeared all over my mouth.

"That was... wow," she breathes, blushing like crazy. Then, everything comes back to me, specifically her being my monster of a boss.

"I'm so sorry! I-I wasn't-" I stutter.

"You're excused, take some tissues on your way out," she says. I wipe the lipstick off my face and leave. The kiss haunts me, always popping up when I think I have peace. I hate how much I want her. I want to despise her, but now it's so hard. I'm also attacked by the guilt of letting my lustful desires get the best of me. I always fall back to it, like a magnet. Even the cold isn't distracting me.

The day feels even longer than usual. My hands are shaking on the keyboard. I'm even more afraid of the feelings I'm developing for Joanna than Joanna. I don't want to be here, I want to forget that encounter.

Joanna is pure evil, there shouldn't be a bone in my body that thinks she could be any more than that. There shouldn't be a bone in my body that wants her.

Fantasies start creeping up in my mind, making me lose focus. I try to cast them away and keep working, but they keep coming back. I need a distraction, a big one. Something so overwhelming, Joanna's name can't even appear in my mind.

There's only one thing I can do, self-harm. Is it extreme? Yes. Would I rather be bleeding than having fantasies of Joanna? Also, yes. My little cell doesn't have much room for anything. Just a laptop, pen organiser, stack of papers and...

"A stapler," I whisper, barely a breath. I keep staring, as if that stapler's my whole world. My hand slowly creeps up towards it. As much as I'm determined to distract myself, I'm absolutely terrified. These aren't regular staplers. They're specially made to staple up to 100 pages together in one go. The staples are 0.59 inches(15mm), and the stapler has a butt load of power.

Without realising, the stapler is in my hand. I'm sweating now, even through the arctic weather. Is this really worth it? Do I hate Joanna this much? I could go to night therapy... if that exists. My hands in the stapler's mouth, ready to be brutally smashed.

I breathe slowly and close my eyes to calm myself. It feels like I'm at the edge of a cliff right now, about to fall to my death.

"I can't do this," I breathe. I slide my hand out but push the stapler's teeth down by mistake. I look at the blood oozing out of my finger like a waterfall. Tears swell up in my eyes, the bones in my finger feel like ash. I bite my lip, trying not to scream. My desk's a pond of blood and I can't see from the tears.

"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!" That's the most blood curdling scream I've ever made. Everyone looks at my cubicle, some close enough to notice the blood dripping to the floor.

"Ms. Adams!" a guard screams. Ms. Adams is the nurse of this building; many people have found self-harm to be their only option to cope.

I see her running over to me, looking at what used to be my finger.