I am not a fan of meetings, so I made this one a little more interesting.
The meeting was dragging on as usual. I found my eyes wandering to the window instead of on Ken’s red face where they were supposed to be. What would it be like to break open the window and just jump. Hope for the best that the snow would break my fall. Run. Freedom. Snapping fingers bring me back from my musings and I look at my notes instead while chancing a quick glance upwards.
Ken is staring at me. Waiting. His suit about to pop a button.
I hide a smirk and flip my yellow notepad to the next page.
Ken shakes his head, jowls wiggling at the effort. He continues rambling about numbers and clients.
I turn my attention to the glass door of the meeting room. I can see a set of bathroom doors from where I sit. Men’s and Women’s rooms. A younger woman, maybe an intern, walks into the women’s room while holding her head. I hope she’s ok. Hopefully she only has a headache, a common occurrence around the office lately. Several employees had left for the day earlier in the morning, complaining of migraines. A few more the day before as well.
Ken is still blathering on, so I pretend to pay attention while waiting for the woman to come out of the bathroom. I sort of feel like a creeper, but I am genuinely concerned about her. She looked sick.
A few minutes later the bathroom door opens shakily and the woman steps out. Something about her gait sends up red flags. Something is wrong with her. She stumbles over her own feet, hitting her head on a chair in the waiting area. One of her high heels flies a few feet away from where she fell.
“Um…Craig? Do you have something to say?” Ken asked, annoyed.
I realize that I’m standing.
“Sorry. That woman out there hit her head on a chair…” I trail off as the woman gets to her feet. Her head looks crooked on her neck. Blood dribbles out of a gash on her head where she smashed it on the chair. She stumbles towards the secretary who had rushed over to help her. The injured woman grabs the secretary and bites her on the neck while she screams.
By now, all the people in the meeting are standing. Some are gasping. Some screaming.
My breath comes in quicker and quicker gasps, like a panic attack. I lean against the glass to gain some composure and stare at the snow again. Wishing I could break the glass.