Divided.

Divided (Part 4) the whip

"Daisy Woods!" The teacher shouted and Daisy flinched and then froze solid silently still. She hadn't meant to laugh; it was an accident.

"Front of the class now," the teacher demanded of her. It wasn't the first time this had happened and she had been trying really ... really hard to concentrate on not doing it.

It wasn't her fault; it always seemed to ... just happen.

She'd be listening quietly to all the things the teacher was teaching them and then the next thing she knew she'd be staring out at the advanced kids as they walked past the window or in the case today; outside on the playground playing 'ball.'

"How many times Daisy, honestly. Do you enjoy punishment? Do you like pain?" The teacher's voice was bitter like acid and Daisy knew only too well what was about to happen to her.

"No miss." She squeaked fighting back the tears, she wasn't going to cry in front of all of all of her class mates, even if she was afraid of 'the whip.'

"How many times must I tell you? You know I'm not the worst don't you?"

Daisy nodded as her eyes began to glisten over with eye water.

"Don't you Daisy ... don't you?" The teacher repeated, she wanted a verbal response but Daisy found it difficult to make any noise at all. If she opened her mouth she was afraid that only sobs of terror and panic would come spilling out.

"Yes" was all she could say, the tears had taken over and were pouring down her cheeks. She couldn't not blink and the moment she did the water escaped.

She was so frightened; she didn't want 'it' to happen to her again.

"I think maybe next time you won't find it as funny, will she class?" The teacher asked the classroom and then a handful of kids started to shake their heads, some with smiles on their tiny little faces and some with an animated look of horror.

Daisy had only giggled because one of the boys outside had been hit in the face with the ball. BAM, WHACK, WALLOP, BIFF. She'd found it funny as most kids would but she shouldn't have laughed. She wasn't allowed to watch the advanced children and she certainly wasn't allowed to laugh at them.

"Go and get it then," the teacher said. Daisy knew where 'it' was kept because she'd been introduced to it twice before. She didn't dare squabble with the teacher; she couldn't defend herself because it wasn't allowed. If she did she was sure she'd be shipped off to wherever it was the people who 'just disappeared' were sent to.

The pain was sharp. A long stick with a leather belt attached the end of it touched the skin on the back of her bare legs ever so slightly the first three times and then got harder and harder until Daisy felt as if she were going to pass out. "Please stop!" she was screaming inside but she wouldn't dare speak the words out loud; she mustn't. Her black school tights were pulled down around her ankles, tights for children aged 5 because for a 7 year old Daisy was rather on the small side.

"Tell me," the teacher said taking a breather from the hard work, she was using every ounce of power she had to cause Daisy the greatest amount of pain, "When will you learn that rules are not there to be broken?"

Daisy felt sick, her reply was on the tip of her tongue.

"Now miss now" she wanted to say but she couldn't, the room had turned a hazy shade of white and her tiny body was trembling so hard she was afraid that if she passed out and fell to the floor she'd be in even more trouble than she already was. The teacher lifted her elongated arm up high again and Daisy squeezed her little eyes shut as tightly as she could and secretly begged that her teacher would tire soon and give up thrusting the belt across the back of her legs; she would have stop soon and soon it would all be over. The pain on the back of her legs would only last for a week when she stopped, one week and this would all be over.