Story from a cubicle

I know that I do not belong here, in this confined space. My cubicle is merely a space for a person to sit where his or her chest is in contact with the table. If I stand up at the same time with the person who sits behind me, our chair will hit and there will be no space to move at all. Narrow space, but open heart. That is what I desired. However, it is so hard to be that way. Today, the guy from my batch who sits next to me asked for a week of holiday because he hurt his leg and needed some treatment. Even though he does not show his diligence and honesty in the past, I thought it was inappropriate for them to immediately judge him in a negative way. If he had lied, he will be punished naturally. Why concern so much and critique so much? Why not shifting all the attention to the work that they are supposed to handle instead of suspecting people’s honesty and so on? It was somehow frightening when the head of my lab command us to put his stuff away. I do not want to be in that position. At that moment, I just feel like leaving this horrible place. Frankly speaking, what is it so precious that I have to give up my life and to get from here? Is it experience of slavery? Or hell? I tried to convince myself many times that if I can be positive, then I can survive here. But now, I do not think I want to stay here anymore. Maybe I owe them in my past life, then I shall apologize in hope that they would forgive me. I pray for them to be happy. I do not want to be another person who brings them misery. I do not want to be the reason to their frustration. And I do not want to be frustrated too. I just wish everything will be good for them when I finally step out from this door. I hope that they would realize how miserable their life is and change. Maybe they do not sense my desire to leave, but I am leaving. A wonderful life is waiting for me.