Doing Time
My Time in a Narcissist Prison Part 1
The day I walked in for my job interview I should have known it was a sting operation. There were five of them sitting around the table, with nothing but smiles.
“There can’t be this much happiness in one room,” I thought to myself.
I took the “hot seat” as they called it, a chair at the head of the conference table. The walls were institutional white, with no artwork on them at all. I didn’t know whether or not I was interviewing for a job at a University or doing an intake for a stay at a mental hospital.
Going around the table, they all gave me their introductions. After the introductions were completed they started in one by one asking the questions for the interview. I answered the best I could, and I was excited. This would be my first job at a University and a step up for my career.
After the questioning was done they gave me the opportunity to ask a few questions of my own. I had a few questions but the one that struck the oddest response was the last question.
“How long have you all worked here and what is so good about the University.”
Well, the one crazy leader of the pack, let’s just call that person “Crack Pot 1” gave me the oddest answer.
“I went to school here and I never left. No one ever leaves here. We all love it here,” said Crack Pot 1 with a Cheshire Cat smile and an evil look in her eye.
Not really knowing any better, because I have never interviewed by the Looney Tunes before, I thanked them all for their answers and I was shuffled out of the room.
After two weeks passed, I got the call offering me the job. The pay was better than I was currently making and my husband and I were wanting to make a move. So I accepted the job and we started making arrangements for the move.
My first day of work was just like any other day. Everything was new and everyone seemed to have fake smiles, but I thought I could make this work.
By the end of my second week, I was really questioning if I had made the right decision. I couldn’t put my finger on it but something didn’t seem right.
After one month and the newness had worn off, I was starting to see the true colors of Crack Pot 1, 2, 3, 4, and 5. There were little passive-aggressive jabs here and there, always done with that Cheshire Cat smile. I started to push back on certain things and that is when it happened. In a meeting with Crack Pot 1–5, Crack Pot 1 absolutely lost it. Their eyes turned deep red and the pupils turned black. I started hearing what sounded like bones rubbing together and what looked like horns growing from the top of their head. Crack Pot 1 stood up and I saw spiny protrusions springing out of their back. The flesh became red and looked as if smoke was rising from the skin.
I stood up and yelled, “Holy shit, it is the demon spawn of Satan. Run!”
I tried to get out but the door was sealed shut. I looked back and Crack Pot 2, 3, 4 and 5 were all turning into some sort of demonic creatures. I was trapped…
