Dear Sir

I loathe you. I know that hate is a strong word, which is why I'm reluctant to write it now, but I have thought it countless times. My chest is heaving as I write this. my throat is clogged with tears that I will not cry. I am filled with rage. You have turned me into a raging monster. And that is not the saddest thing. The saddest thing is that you have made me doubt myself. You have made me look into the mirror searching for the sign on my face, on my body that invited you to shatter my trust. Yes Sir, I trusted you. I trusted you. I came to you looking for guidance, for a chance to prove myself. I trusted you to lead me into adulthood. Not the sort that you insinuate Sir, the sort that would have me ready to take on any professional challenges that I know are heading my way. I came to you with an eager mind. Sir, I came to you willing to work my ass off to prove just how capable I am. And I am doing that. Grudgingly. Because you have killed all the joy that I had doing my job. You have made me a sulky child again, baffling my ma as I intentionally make myself late every morning. Not because I am lazy, but because I hate even the thought of that 8 to 5 torture. It's torturous Sir,looking at you while I scream in my mind. Doing my work with a smile while I cringe and try to disappear. listening to you laugh while I have visions of you getting very very hurt. Not being able to tell how much this is messing me up because there's a chance no one will believe me. Not really anyway. They just think I'm being drama queenish. But I'm not Sir. You disgust me. You have pushed me to the edge. I am constantly worried about what you will say next. I switch off my phone,afraid of the next phone call. But I can't switch my mind off Sir. That stays on all the time, wondering whether maybe my skirts are too short,or if I smile too much. I'm even scared of doing my work too well. Was it something I said, or how I said it? I'm reluctant to do things I'd normally be aching to do because it would mean working too closely with you. It would mean giving you another chance to make my skin crawl. You see Sir, I loathe you, even while I smile at you.