I Know What I Saw

Everyone has a safe space. A location we escape to when things get too much. A place of solitude where you can be one with your thoughts without intrusion.

Lucas feels most comfortable in corners. Nothing can sneak up on him in a corner. Back at school, he always sat at the desk in the left-hand corner of the classroom so no one could throw anything at him. During the rare occasion that he’s invited to a party, he’ll find a corner and stand there with his non-alcoholic drink, so that no one can jump on him from behind. At home, his bed is tucked into the corner of his room, and he sleeps with his back pressed up against the wall, just in case.

At the office, Lucas’s desk is in the corner, but his go-to safe space is the left-side cubicle in the toilets on the far end of the building. This corner trumps the rest.

He goes there when the office is too loud for him, when there’s too much work in front of him, or when someone has an annoying cough or is humming too much.

He chose this particular toilet aside from the ones just a stone’s throw from his desk because fewer people use the toilets on the far end of the building, meaning they’re quieter and cleaner (so he can sit on the floor).

It’s so quiet in there, in fact, that the silence almost hurts, like it’s pressed up right against his ears. The only sound even slightly detectable with the healthiest of ears is the pipes, the quiet veins of the building that surround the toilet.

You might be wondering why this story starts with such a long-winded description of a quiet cubicle in the corner, on the far side of an office. Well, it’s simple: 

Lucas saw something. And is currently hiding in said cubicle. He was quietly sitting at his desk one moment, and the next, he was charging across the open-plan office, out the door, and down the long corridor, leaving a trail of his lunch in his wake. 

What did he see? That’s a good question. Tony, from Sales, is currently trying to work that one out.

“Lucas? Are you in here?” he says quietly, opening the toilet door, “Since when were there toilets over here?” 

Lucas is curled up in the corner of the cubicle, his knees pressed against his chest as tightly as they’ll go, his face buried in the arms. Tony knocks on the door gently. “Lucas? You’ve been gone for ages. What happened? You made me jump out of my skin!”

Lana, Lucas’s manager, slowly enters the bathroom, her hand partially covering her eyes to avoid the urinals. “Is everyone decent?”

“Yes, at least I am, who knows what he’s getting up to in there,” says Tony, nodding to the cubicle. Lana approaches the door.

“Lucas, it’s Lana. Can you come out, please?”

“I’m not going back.” Lucas whimpers into his jeans. His throat is dry and his voice hoarse.

Lana and Tony exchange a concerned look. “What’s up, buddy? What’s upset you?” asks Tony.

“I can’t…” mutters Lucas.

“If someone is bothering you, Lucas, you need to tell me,” Lana says to the door.

“It’s not that…”

“Then what is it?”

“You’ll think I’m crazy.”

“No one thinks you’re crazy,”  Lana says, looking over to Tony, who mouths Welllll…. Lana slaps his arm with a restrained smirk.

“I can’t go back in there.” 

“It’s Friday, Lucas!” Lana begins cheerfully, “I know work can get a bit overwhelming but it’s the weekend soon!” 

“You don’t get it!”, Lucas exclaims, “You don’t know what I saw!”

Lana shuffles on the spot, agitated. She doesn’t like to be shouted at by her employees, “Fine, Lucas. What did you see?”

There’s no response. Lana rolls her eyes. Inside the cubicle, Lucas is simply trying to gather the words, but failing.

“Lucas?”

Still nothing. After a moment or two passes, Tony gives a big sigh, “Right, I’m going back to work,” he says, stretching his arms, “Good luck, Lana.”

She shoots him a sharp look. “Don’t leave me alone!” she hisses. Turning back to the cubical door. “I don’t want to play these games again, Lucas.”

Tony, who was just reaching for the door handle, looks puzzled. Lana leans closer to him and whispers “This isn’t the first time there’s been something in the office. Turns out… it was the cleaner.”

Tony sniggers, “She is a bit scary, I’ll give that to you, Lucas.”

“I know what I saw!”

“You saw Bertha!” snaps Lana.

“No!” screams Lucas, elbowing the cubicle door hard, making Lana and Tony jump back with a yelp.

“Lucas! Get out of there and back to your desk now!”

But Lucas ignores her, clamping his hands around his ears in a desperate search for silence. His safe space has been compromised at a time he needs it the most. In times like this, Lucas tries his best to distract his entire being by taking in his surroundings to the fullest.

The grey floor, a bit bumpy like sandpaper, and smells like bleach.

The toilet, as toilety as they get. But the flush is much smoother than the ones closer to his desk, which he appreciates. 

The ceiling…

Many months ago, Lucas noted to himself that the ceiling is made of lightweight square tiles, meaning there might be some space above…

And if he happened to need an emergency escape…

But his thoughts are interrupted by something moving in the corner of his eye. He spins around to see the lock on the door, slowly turning from occupied to vacant.

“NO!” he cries, grabbing the lock tightly.

Outside the cubicle, Lana has pulled a coin out of her pocket and is using it to turn the lock from the outside. “Lucas, this is getting really silly now. If there was something in the office, don’t you think someone else in there would have seen it?”

“Of course not!” shouts Lucas, tugging hard on the latch, “No one else can see the whole room from their desk! I’m in the corner so I can see everything!”

Lana lets go of the coin in defeat, “He’s stronger than he looks,” she whispers to Tony, who raises his eyebrows.

“Lucas, if there really is something back there, how come no one else is making a run for it? Mustn’t be that bad, right?” he says, taking Lana’s place in front of the door.

“How would you know that?” Lucas whispers, sliding back to the floor to resume his curled up position.

Tony shrugs, “I’ll go check and report back.” And before either Lucas or Lana can object, he swings the toilet door open and hurries out into the corridor.

Lana huffs, kicking off her heels and sits on the floor on the other side of the cubicle door, “Lucas,” she begins gently, swallowing her growing impatience, “Please tell me exactly what you saw, you’re scaring me.”

Curled up, Lucas has confided in the corner once more. “You wouldn’t believe me,” he whispers.

“Try me.”

“It’ll sound ridiculous.”

“Just tell me.”

“You already think I’m mad…”

“No I don’t.”

“…but it was there.”

“Are you sure you didn’t imagine it?” Lana asks.

“I knew you wouldn’t believe me.” Lucas mutters, turning his back to the door.

Lana sighs again, “I didn’t say I didn’t believe you, Lucas, but if there really is something, somewhere, we need to take it serious–”

“You’re the ones not taking this seriously!” Lucas snaps.

“Right, that’s it,” Lana announces angrily, getting to her feet, “I’ve had enough. I’ve tried to be patient with you, again and again. You’ve made a scene too many times now, Lucas. This is your final warning.”

Almost inaudibly, Lucas repeats, “I know what I saw.”

A tear makes its way down his cheek.

Lana doesn’t say anything. With one last defeated glare at the cubicle door, she turns and leaves the room, carrying her heels with her, “Probably missed a million calls now.” she mutters to herself as the door closes gently behind her.

The silence returns like an old friend. Lucas squeezes his eyes shut and presses his head into his knees, focusing hard on the phosphenes swimming around his vision. When he’s like this, his mind almost becomes reality. 

The office has never been quieter. No one returns to the toilets, and gradually, Lucas falls asleep in his safe space.