Status: Active(:
He's My Protector.
Chapter 50
“High School.” She smirked.
I was sort of glad that the majority of kids had already gotten to class. Poor Annette. At times I couldn’t help but think that I wasn’t helping at all.
I’m not.
She led me to her first class. The door had a gray rectangular sign above it marked Mrs. Warding.
Why must all teachers have screwed up names?
“You ready?” I asked her. My head was still pounded, and seemed as if it was just going to pop out of my skull at any minute.
“Not at all.” She said. As I opened my mouth to state something else, she pushed the door open.
The room seemed to be relatively dark, as the large white board took up most the room.
All heads whipped toward us, soaking in our appearance and my hand dropped any contact from Annette.
Whispers sprouted about the room as Mrs. Warding spun her chair around to face us.
She had puffy gray hair that seemed to grow up. Her tucked in white shirt just accentuated her large maroon skirt, causing her butt to bulge out.
Slapping her ruler on her desk, she faced her class.
“Excuse me, class. This is not how we treat out students!” She snapped, turning around and smiling at me.
“Welcome back to class, Annette. Welcome back to school, Kegan.” The teacher said, sweetly.
How bipolar.
Suddenly, in the back of the class, some one blurted out a sentence loud and clear.
“Why do they let murderers come back to school?”
My stomach turned as I wanted to throw up then and there. Annette’s face shot toward mine as the teacher twirled around.
“Excuse me, Jeffrey. We do not talk like that. Go see Mr. Fiddle right away!” She snapped, as he got up with an eyeroll.
“Killer.” Was all he said while walking past, glaring at me, then he did something I couldn’t believe.
He slyly laid a hand on Annette’s lower back, walking past.
I tensed up, as Annette quickly grabbed my wrist. As I turned my head, she could see the rage filling in my eyes.
Her nails dug into my wrist, leaving crescent shape marks.
“Please take a seat, you two. I do apologize.” She sighed, as I stiffly walked taking a seat. Annette sat down beside me, whispering something.
I was to concentrated on how was I going to survive here without actually killing some one this time.
I was sort of glad that the majority of kids had already gotten to class. Poor Annette. At times I couldn’t help but think that I wasn’t helping at all.
I’m not.
She led me to her first class. The door had a gray rectangular sign above it marked Mrs. Warding.
Why must all teachers have screwed up names?
“You ready?” I asked her. My head was still pounded, and seemed as if it was just going to pop out of my skull at any minute.
“Not at all.” She said. As I opened my mouth to state something else, she pushed the door open.
The room seemed to be relatively dark, as the large white board took up most the room.
All heads whipped toward us, soaking in our appearance and my hand dropped any contact from Annette.
Whispers sprouted about the room as Mrs. Warding spun her chair around to face us.
She had puffy gray hair that seemed to grow up. Her tucked in white shirt just accentuated her large maroon skirt, causing her butt to bulge out.
Slapping her ruler on her desk, she faced her class.
“Excuse me, class. This is not how we treat out students!” She snapped, turning around and smiling at me.
“Welcome back to class, Annette. Welcome back to school, Kegan.” The teacher said, sweetly.
How bipolar.
Suddenly, in the back of the class, some one blurted out a sentence loud and clear.
“Why do they let murderers come back to school?”
My stomach turned as I wanted to throw up then and there. Annette’s face shot toward mine as the teacher twirled around.
“Excuse me, Jeffrey. We do not talk like that. Go see Mr. Fiddle right away!” She snapped, as he got up with an eyeroll.
“Killer.” Was all he said while walking past, glaring at me, then he did something I couldn’t believe.
He slyly laid a hand on Annette’s lower back, walking past.
I tensed up, as Annette quickly grabbed my wrist. As I turned my head, she could see the rage filling in my eyes.
Her nails dug into my wrist, leaving crescent shape marks.
“Please take a seat, you two. I do apologize.” She sighed, as I stiffly walked taking a seat. Annette sat down beside me, whispering something.
I was to concentrated on how was I going to survive here without actually killing some one this time.
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