Not Myself
After that teacher that held me roughly took me back into my class, I met my teacher looking at me as if she was about to smack me across the face. Trust me, I stared back at her in a menacing way, challenging her to do what was on her mind.
"Why do you have that look on your face, little girl?" my teacher asked.
That was my line, I thought. I was supposed to ask her why she was looking at me the way she was but I kept quiet and remained silent. I did not want to add to what my parents were going through at the moment. If I say anything right now, I was sure that my teachers would go straight to the head teacher's office to report and add to what my parents were hearing at that moment.
I was disturbed and that was the understatement of the year.
"I want to sit down, " I said to my class teacher who still stared at me like there was a spider on my forehead.
"Can you not add please?" the assistant class teacher asked.