A Bad Girl's Guide to Murder [AGGGTM]

Not happening!

"What the fuck is wrong with her?!" He exclaimed, bolting from his chair

"James, please sit down. If your own student had heard you said that, she would feel bad about it. I'm sure we can asess this situation in a better manner," Ms. Fillur quipped, eyes slightly trailing up to his scrunched face and gritted teeth.

Mr. Tunrner didn't, keeping his stand in the group of teachers.

The teachers lounge was supposed to be a place of relaxation. A room a fluffy couches and seats with a fridge and vending machine. Not a place of yelling and anger. Either way, he kept his stare, gazing at his colleagues  for signs of agreement.

 Wednesday had been completely normal until the English teacher, Ms. Archer, had come with the news of the girl who wanted to investigate about the DT case. Everything went silent, and soon came Mr. Turner's sudden outburst.

"You can't be serious about this! She's becoming Fitz-Amobi 2.0!" he exclaimed to all the looks shot at him.

"Is this not affecting anyone?!" he added, seeing their continued stares, a mix of pity and annoyance in each. 

He groaned, slumping back down into his chair when he realized it was hopeless. Silence strained between every teacher, the loudest sound the mechanical buzz of the fridge. She sighed, and lightly called out to him.

"James, I've decided to let her. This is my homework, and by every rule in this school, I have the right to assign extra homework to certain students as I see fit. I will give her one warning, and nothing more or less. Nothing but shame, harrasment, and embarresment will come from it, if she procceds." Ms. Archer points out, keeping her wide grin on like a medal of honor.

"Annie, if I may," Ms. Fillur started, slightly blushing as eyes fell to her, "She's 17 and just wants to live her life. I understand how and why you see this punishment fit, but at the same time I just can't. She isn't mature, and she can't worry about anything but now. I don't think she's worried about her future, and that's the problem. Imagine what schools will decline her because of this stunt she didn't know had meaning behind it?" she said softly, her voice filling the empty room.

"Ms. Fillur, I am aware of this, but trust me. You don't have her in your classes. You don't see the girl I see. She knows full well what she's doing, and she needs a lesson or two. Besides, at this point, what college? She won't make it far with these grades!" she said, voice loud and clear over the remaining silence. 

She saw the faces of her fellow teachers, a pure mix of disgust and acceptance mixed together. She cleared her throat, frowning as she spoke.

"What? You know it's true, don't look at me like I'm a nutcase!" she argued, pulling her coffee up from the table and near her mouth, taking a large sip. Ms. Fillur sighed as she watched, only muttering a sentence.

"But she could have a future, you know! She can turn things around!" she replied hopefully, eye glittering in the mute room. No one said anything, and most looking down and distracting themselves. Archer smiled. "New teacher hope, my absolute favorite thing in the world." she said with a grin, chugging another sip of her coffee.

The bell rang, signalling the end of lunch break.

"She's hopeless, end of story. Now, chop chop! Those lesson plans won't figure themselves out!" Archer added blanlky, enthusiasm only at the tip of her sentence as she and the rest started standing up to leave in a hurry, except Ms. Fillur, who had a free period.

"Bye darling!"she croaked, waving fakily as she picked up her bag, shuffling out the door while chuckling at her own sentence. 

Only her, there and alone in that teacher's lounge, eyes dull with a hollow feeling body as she picked herself up. She walked across the shiny floors and swung the door open, nearly squashing a freshman.

She filed throught the crowd of smelly, warm high schoolers towards the other end of the hall. Following against the walking masses, she finally made it to her room.  With its soft navy green, crimson cherries she had painted everywhere, and the big, blue sky, it lit up the classroom and her shiny brown eyes, hope starting to smell like the breeze flowing through the window. 

She laid her things down under her clean desk, and began her heafty work load.