„Greggsbag, your face's little wet" mocked Cane „and you got a bit of shit on it too. Maybe we should try to put it in the water once more?" With that, the hand clenched in my hair nearly ripped its routs out and pushed my face into the toilette once again. At first I tried to struggle against it, but the more I turned and twisted, the longer he kept my face under the water. "I'm under the water, please help me" I attempted to scream but only air bubbles reach the surface. With one last hard push, my nose scraped against the bottom toilette and I wanted to vomit. I felt the beil rising in my throat, tasting its sour taste on my tongue. I couldn't open my mouth but also it was impossible to swallow it all down. As soon as I felt the grip release my blond, wet hair, my head broke through the surface and I threw up all over my school uniform.
