The Second Goverment - One Direction Thriller

A little before my mother's boss strode into her segment of the forth floor, I experienced a sudden wave of guilt due to my grand 'bunk' from school.

My mother had always been a hard worker, never once missing a day from her job unless it was completely necessary. Heck, even the time I got sent to the hospital during the school day she carried out the last hour of her work. This is why I was the slightest bit scared to come into the office with her. Never did I dare to question why she seemed so obsessed with her profession, though, because she would get extremely defensive. For whatever reason, she had not ever really explained to me what her job was. All I knew was that she worked for some agency and handled all sorts of top secret files. So, naturally, I asked no more; top secret was, as it says in the name, secret. She wouldn't dream of answering any prying questions I may have had. If anyone wanted information from her, thy would have to think of a very good plan beforehand. She took her job very seriously, and the day I pretended to be sick I found out why.

Through the window slotted into an even rectangular gap in the wooden door to my mother's office, I caught a glimpse of a balding man peering at either me or the woman sitting across from me. As soon as he saw me looking back, he stepped away. I would have asked my mum's friend who he was, but she was concentrating on what she was doing on the computer opposite me so I stayed quiet and continued to watch the animated paperclip bounce and break into dance moves in the corner of the screen in front of me. If ever I came into this room, that is what I would spend the time doing. Normally mum would give me some kind of ridiculous and unhelpful job - untangling the chords to the old-fashioned phones, for example - that I would promise to do but never really get around to. So that little paperclip guy was kind enough to keep me company and remind me of how much fun I definitely was not having.

On the desk under a paperweight lay a sixteenth birthday card my mother still hadn't gotten around to giving me. The funny part is my birthday was a month and a half ago. It was annoying me a tiny bit sitting there, almost mocking me. 'Your mum looks at this every day,' it taunts. Of course I had received many presents I hardly needed, but I would have preferred a card over all of them. Having a rich parent really is not all it's cut out to be, trust me. 'Yet she still hasn't filled it out,' the card howls. I'll have you know I am very aware that inanimate objects do not talk and they certainly do not howl, but it felt like the unsealed envelope did exactly that.

My eyes were torn away from the large and green '16' printed on the card when the office door opened with a harsh creak and the very man I had seen less than a minute ago set foot inside with one confident step. Without a word, he perched himself on a chair in the corner of the room and looked impatiently to his watch with a loud sigh. I noticed Mandy's shoulders tense and her jaw clench a bit each time the man cleared his throat. After a while it began to get on my inexistent tits too. But I said nothing, kept my eyes on the paperclip and tried not to make much sound. Because he was the boss of the whole building, I needed to keep in his good book, if he had one, so my behaviour didn't reflect badly on my family. Many times, I had heard almost those exact words from my mum while she lectured me if I was coming in with her for the day. I never saw him being a bad guy. I mean, he never had a big problem with me coming in for a few hours. Then again, it was either that or my mum taking a five minute break halfway through the day to call the house and check if I was okay. And, of course, an extra person is better than a worker taking five minutes off. Obviously.

In my opinion, the whole strict rules and timetable was stupid. If anybody was as much as two minutes late logging onto their computer, they got forced to take leave without pay and got temporarily replaced. Yet, still, no one quit. I remember once being told that the contracts there are highly detailed, have no holes to pick out and are very long in time. For example, my mother's first contract stated that she legally had to stay working there for five years unless she was fired or told otherwise. So they can't walk out. That must have been incredibly restricting. Perhaps that is the only reason my mother stayed at her job and worked hard, when she clearly hated it; she had to stay.