I don’t understand anything

　　I am wearing makeup again because the witch scratched my face. 

　　The reminder has my jaw clenching but the image of her glitter covered hair, the shock etched on her flawless face brings a small smile to my lips. I swipe at my cheek, frowning at my fingertips coated in foundation and my body thrums with anger. I cannot forgive him, I will never forgive him even if he was the one who carried me to the nurse after I blacked out. He should have never interfered, I would have dealt with her properly. I pound my fists against my thighs, determined to ignore the boy appearing in my peripheral view. Mr Sam scribbles some more on the board, following it with a lengthy explanation.