Start Over

Rain pelted the bow windows that consumed the far wall of D’Arcy’s living room. The lightning and thunder shook the outside world, but the inside of the apartment remained silent save the dull hum of electronics. A green light from a computer screen illuminated her face.

“Something isn’t aligning correctly,” she muttered. “If they want a premade portfolio option with dollar-cost averaging…” She signed and switched screens. “There’s no indicator for it.” She silenced again while taking screenshots of the errors she discovered.

Meow. Her cat jumped onto the desk and cried out again for attention.

“I know baby girl. I’m almost done.” D’Arcy petted her cat behind the ear while she kept an eye on the computer screen. “Once I’m finished, we can go snuggle. I promise. I just need this one thing, and maybe I can get that big promotion. Mommy needs that money to pay for your kibble.”

Mew.

D’Arcy typed a quick email with her screenshots to her boss. “Okay, let’s go.” She stood and scooped her cat into her arms. “Snuggle time.” With a quick flick of her fingers, she cut off the green light.

The sun beamed through the bow windows of D’Arcy’s living room. It drowned out the green light that filled her eyes.

And when I discovered this issue I worked with our technical team.

Her boss’s words echoed in her mind. The issue D’Arcy had discovered, had sent up the chain, had spent so much time researching – her issue – had been taken away from her. The credit went to someone else. How was she going to get ahead if she couldn’t find a project to launch her career with? She needed something to distinguish her from everyone else in order to get her promotion. But what could she do if anything she discovered or created was stolen away? Was there a title for that? Corporate plagiarism?

She stood and stretched, eyes never departing from the screen. Every stretch, every step as she walked across the room to her refrigerator to secure a bottle of water, and every step back to her desk, her eyes remained transfixed on the computer. Her mind churned trying to think of what she could do to be seen on a corporate level.

“I got it!” she shouted.

The cat ran into the room to berate her with meows for the loud noise.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’ll be quieter!” D’Arcy sat at the computer and began typing. “I can start a communication that will help with training.” She ran her fingers through her hair, sipped water, and pulled screens up on the monitor. “I know just the product to do it on.”

The indigo night filled the bow windows of the room. Green light from the twin monitors lit the darkness. D’Arcy lounged on the firm couch. She laid face down in her pillow, crying, screaming out her pain. Another meeting. More corporate plagiarism. How was it possible? How could someone steal the hard work of another person without shame or remorse? Without batting an eye? No matter the happiness she felt about the kudos she occasionally received from coworkers, the dread feeling of knowing she was stuck in her position haunted her. No matter how hard she worked, how much extra time she put into her job, it seemed to not matter.

D’Arcy rolled over and allowed herself to fall off the couch. The pain of landing only produced a slight grunt. Yet the sound was enough to summon the feline. She ran into the room and bounced onto her back.

Purrs. Her paws steadily kneaded.

“If it wasn’t for you, Athena, I don’t know what I would do. But I have to stay at that job to make us money. Can’t just go get another job and start over from scratch.”

More purrs and kneading.

“I’ve put in five years, so much CE… I can’t just start over, can I?” Her eyes drifted over to the green light of her computer. Could she start over? Was that not the way to escape misery? To escape being stuck? She whispered to herself. “Start. Over.”