My Villain Origin Story Part 2
tw: rape, sexual violence, cheating
Before we dive into the story, how’s everyone doing? Somehow we’re nearing the end of February— how the hell did that happen? Thankfully this week also brings a Virgo full moon, and let me tell you, this Virgo is feeling it. Not to completely hype stuff up or go too rose-colored glasses on you, but it does feel like the tide is turning a bit. Luck feels like it’s shifting. Or maybe after a month of metaphorical and actual atmospheric rivers, it feels good to be sitting in the sun on my balcony and seeing seedlings of progress.
Here’s some of my wins for the week:
-Finished Act 1 of my new pilot
-Got a new freelance writing assignment that involves reporting
-Got my son to go to karate twice this week
-Saw some people that felt like sunshine
-Despite physical pain, I stuck to my daily workout routine and learned about the lymph system
-Kept my son happy and healthy
Okay, onto the story. As mentioned in the subheading, this one does involve rape and sexual abuse, so please be advised.
My Villain Origin Story Part 2
I was one of those kids that couldn’t wait to get a job. I made my younger brother co-run a lemonade, then sno-cone stand when we were still in elementary school, but I was so excited to have a timecard and a real paycheck. It seemed so grown up. Unfortunately, my first real job made me grow up in ways I didn’t expect.
As soon as I was legally able to join the workforce in California, I was on the hunt. There was a local department store that seemed to always be hiring and offered a great discount, so I applied and was thrilled to get hired to work in the kids department. Watch out world: this teenager, who looked more like a child than teenager, was going to be a working girl!
Before we could officially start working, we had to participate in a day-long training event where all new hires across all the departments came together to watch boring corporate training videos in the basement. Since I was 17, I immediately started flirting with the boys who seemed to be around my age. One was a dreamy Shane West lookalike who went to a different HS and worked in the mens department. He was short like me and we spent our break drinking blended sugary coffee drinks together, so you know I thought it was love. There was another guy there with the saddest puppy-dog eyes. He was like a human basset hound, honestly. He was also short, but he had a bushy beard and was balding. Plus, I overheard him talk about just returning from Iraq, so he was in the army and had seen some shit.
AKA, a full grown up.
I didn’t pay much attention to him, other than being a little scared that he’d been in a war, and he seemed like it. He was also going to be working as a security guard and part of his training was learning how to blend into the environment, so I didn’t think I’d be seeing him much. Besides, I was already in love with Newbury Park Shane West.
The job was fine. I worked part-time and loved folding baby clothes and helping people pick out things for baby showers and birthdays. I continued to flirt with my co-worker crush until I found out he was in a tumultuous relationship with his best friend since he was five and that seemed too messy. So, I turned my sights to Chad (who, as anyone will tell you, Chad’s are never a good idea) and a supervisor, a senior from a HS nearby who was sweet and nerdy. But, the basset hound security guard kept lingering around the kids department. He was always watching and keeping an eye out for me, it seemed.
One day, a few months into working there, Basset Hound Security Guard handed me a gift. I thought it was weird because we didn’t have that kind of relationship, but it was around the holidays so it kind of made sense. I put it in my locker and didn’t think about it during my shift. Basset Hound came around during my shift and asked if I wanted to go to a party at his house later. Several co-workers were apparently going, including all my crushes. I hadn’t been invited to a grown-up’s party before, but if everyone else was going, I was down! Besides he gave me a gift! He was a nice person! He wrote his address on a post-it, and I would head to his house after my shift.
So this is the part of the story that gets bad. I’ve written about it before, but basically his gift was lingerie. No one else had actually been invited to the party. He roofied my drink. Stuff happened that I only vaguely remember as if it’s a montage in a movie and not my actual life. Honestly, it wasn’t until years later when I was recounting the story to my college friend that she spelled it out for me: “you were raped.” I had excuses, rape was a scary word (and still is) and I didn’t want to be associated with it (still don’t). My friend reminded me that it didn’t matter… I was 17 and he was in his 20’s. No matter what, that’s considered rape. But… I didn’t have that knowlege or coping skills right after it happened. I just felt a lot of shame and confusion. And anger.
After that night, I would avoid him at work. It wasn’t hard because we hadn’t exactly been friends, and his job was to blend into the background and disappear. It was also around this time we hired a new HR person— a 30-something mousey woman who was returning to the workforce now that her kids were school-age. Basset Hound security guard would spend a lot of time hanging in her office, which upset me because this was clearly a barrier to me reporting him (which I didn’t even know if I could or should do), but I was also 17 and bitterly jealous. How could he buy me lingerie, have sex with me, and then ignore me for this older woman? It didn’t make sense!
The rumor mill really started to fly amongst us co-workers. Someone caught the two of them having sex in the parking lot. He was buying her gifts constantly. The two of them were giddy in love. I was glad the attention was off me because then I could keep this awful secret shame that was brewing, but I was still livid. How could they be so blatant? What would her kids and husband think? Should I tell her about what he did to me? These were a lot of big questions for a pretty sheltered suburban teen.
One day in the bathroom, she was talking to a co-worker of ours about how she was considering leaving her husband for him. She bragged that basset hound bought her gifts constantly and was so attentive. I couldn’t help myself: “He’s kind of a jerk,” I barely spoke up. She rolled her eyes at me and replied that I was a kid and couldn’t understand.
She’s right, I was a kid and couldn’t understand. I was also a kid who had been violated and didn’t have a way to tell anyone about it. It sucked. I started to think maybe I should look for other jobs. My senior year was winding down and I could make the case that I wanted to enjoy my last semester of high school without earning a paycheck. My parents thankfully agreed.
During one of my last shifts, I was tidying the kids department when I noticed the HR woman’s husband shopping in my section! I knew it was him because he had visited once before and she had pictures of the kids on her desk. Her desk, that little did I know at the time, was currently occupied. But, I did know that basset hound had gone into her office just a few moments ago and closed the door. So… I had a pretty good idea of what they were up to.
It was then I approached the husband and introduced myself as a friend of his wife’s. He asked if she was around, and I told him she was probably in her office. “It’s right past the gift wrapping desk, you can just walk right in…” He thanked me, and off he went. Only a few minutes passed before you could hear the commotion. Apparently the kids went in first and saw mommy naked on her desk with a stranger on top of her. The husband took a swing at the basset hound, which was ironic because he was the person who would be the one to stop this situation, if he hadn’t have also been the one to cause it. Life is funny sometimes. I stayed away, but I’m pretty sure I had a smirk on my face the rest of my shift.
I heard they both got fired. Turns out there’s a big difference between rumors and hard-evidence that you’re fucking on the job. I sometimes wonder if she got divorced and how her kids are, but I don’t think about him at all (unless I’m writing about him).