I turned to my right to see Sabrina, her azure eyes twinkling with mischief, accompanied by Ashton and two tall, muscular boys, most likely some of Dean's puppets. My face crumpled and eyebrows furrowed in confusion and frustration.
"Shut up Sabrina," I said in a defiant yet quiet voice, "I'm gonna be late for class."
"Aw, is the poor girl trying to get to class on time? Make good grades?" With each question she pushed me further back towards the lockers.
I was at the verge of tears, or screaming my guts out.
"What are your grades, huh? Oh yeah, and how's your dad doing? Does he still drink, or has he gotten over that? Does he still beat you? That must suck, doesn't it? To not even be safe in your own home. Truly sorry, honest I am. Is there anything I can do?"
"Leave me alone Sabrina. I have to get to class."
"Yeah that's right, History. Do you like that class, Blandria? Tell me, what's your grade in that class?
There's no point in trying, Blandria. You're never gonna amount to anything. Colleges will never accept a low-life like you, a poor girl that can't even pay for the first semester. Just stop trying so hard.
You're a stupid, ugly, dumb-bitch loser, and you're always going to be a loser.
Give. It. U--"
"--SHUT UP, SABRINA!! I'm done with your SHIT and the shit you throw out all over this school!" The pot had boiled over and was steaming vigorously. "Why? Why do you have to torture and hurt everybody else to feel good about yourself?
"You know what? You'd be doing this school and everyone at it a FAVOR if you left and never came back. AND YOU KNOW WHY, SABRINA? Because you're a BITCH Sabrina. Everyone hates you. So leave me and everyone you've ever picked on alone."
Then, all of a sudden, the boulders of guys that had been waiting behind her and Ashton began nearing toward me. I had no idea what to do, and everything happened so fast I couldn't fight back. The blonde one with rosy cheeks punched me in the gut, picked me up by the waist, and threw me over his shoulder. My eyes bulged and I had no time to fully react besides internally panicking. I couldn't think straight. The girls and the other boy followed us as I kicked and flailed and said defiant things in resilience.
"Let go of me!!
"Put me down you douchebag!
"Stop!! Put me DOWN!"
But they wouldn't. They didn't put me down, even as I fought in rebellion against the large arms the size of pineapples holding my waist firmly against his broad shoulder. I soon gave up, waiting stilly in silence as he lugged me across the large school and towards a room I'd never seen before. My breathes were short and panicked, and my heart beated 100 miles and hour in anticipation and stress and worry.
The door was small and could barely fit the height of me and the lumberjack carrying me. The others followed as we entered a medium sized classroom that looked somewhat abandoned or misplaced. It was like a time capsule- everything looked exactly as the students and teacher left it, as if they'd left in the middle of a lesson and in a hurry to get out. That's when I noticed it:
This was where my mom used to work, where she taught before she died in a car crash just 4 years ago. She taught a lively freshman English class, and she won the Teacher of the Year award 3 consecutive times. I guess the kids really liked her, and so did the administrators.
All of a sudden the guy's meaty hands below me clutched my waist and threw me down onto the floor with a hard thud. The cold stone floor hit all the bruises left on my back, sides, and legs from my father's cruelty just the night before.
