Scratched and Broken

Art of Independence

Mavine casually walked from her Mathematics class (most hated) to her band class (least hated). The band director, Matthew Walkings, was a pretty chill guy, so off course she's gonna like that class. Carrying her trumpet case, and 9,000+ more bags, she passed the Manthers, the school thugs. The girl thought that their group was absolutely ridiculous. Some guy named Brady was the leader of the group, which was the biggest fucking joke to ever pass that school.
The Manthers, or Mandicks, to give them their scientific term, decided that having fun with a trumpet player was a good idea.
One member stepped in front of Mavine, while another waltzed behind her, the rest closing Mavine's exits.
"Hey there, sweetcheeks. How about you put those band skills to good use, and blow my trumpet~" Everyone hearing it laughed, even some teachers once they saw who the "victim" was.
Mavine simply stared at the boy, generating a plan in her little head, which was quickly interrupted by a slap to her bottom. Mavine tensed as the other guys awed at the- well... jiggle, of her bottom, whilst laughing amongst themselves.
She turned around in an instant, and swung her case at his throat.
They did not laugh.
One trip to the principal's office later,
And Mavine was let off of school for two days. The band director handed her the sheet music for an upcoming game, knowing that she didn't really need him to teach her. She was a big girl. Well, big in age. Not really in height. Mavine saw no need to look over her notes. One, because she already knew what happened in the Civil War, and two, because she didn't take any notes. She just kinda stared blankly at the teacher. Waiting...Watching...Thinking.
Or that's what she thought during the whole process.
Mavine just sat down at her bed, took out her sketch pad, and started drawing with a pencil that she stole from a classmate.
She drew what she thought.
What she felt.
And what she wanted.