Sierra King

Catharsis

Walking through the corridor I hear a raised voice so I follow it. Man I hate these teachers! I quickly locate the source of the shouting. I enter the room, feeling highly pissed off. My eyes lock with the greying haired old bitch, otherwise known as Mrs Marshall. My mood turns angry immediately.

"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?!" I demand to know, rushing towards the little girl getting pulled over her lap. She was only small, about 3 and a half foot. She had blonde hair that falls in loose curls around her head and face. Soft whimpers where escaping her mouth but shes putting up little resistance.

"This has nothing to do with you, Sierra, now move along and get to your next lesson," she instructs me, shooing me away with her hand. I notice her nails are filed in to a coffin shape, painted prostitute red. Ewww!

I snort loudly, "yeah, that's not going to happen!" I enter the room even further, heading in her direction. I notice that the little girl is now laying fully over her lap. Her arms are stretched out in front of her, her hands unable to reach the floor. The girls little face was scrunched up with nervous anticipation.

"MR LYNDSEY, CAN YOU COME IN HERE PLEASE?" She calls, her voice not much higher than her talking voice. I glance behind me for a moment to see if he is coming. As I do so, I hear the sound of a smack from inside the room. I quickly look back to see the bitch with her arm in the air, hand stretched open, palm facing down.

The small sob that comes from the girl makes it obvious that she had been hit. My eyes narrowed as I ran towards them, reaching out and grabbing her arm mid swing. "GET OFF OF HER," I yelled, pulling her arm towards me.

There was a bit of a struggle as she pulled against me, trying to free her arm out of my grasp. Seconds later, I feel different arms wrapped around me, trying to pull me away. I don't release my grip, meaning that Mrs Marshall gets pulled along with me.

She was half off the faux leather chair she was sat on, the girl falling off her lap to the floor.

"What is going on in here?" Mr Lyndsey queried, not releasing me from his hold. She answered before I could.
"Sierra here is trying to stop Samantha's punishment for whatever reason. I have told her to go back to class but she is refusing." She has a wild look in her eyes.

"Is this true?" Mr Lyndsey asks me, turning me slightly to face him.
"I heard yelling so I came in to see what was going on and seen that old bag assaulting her," I tell him, pointing towards the girl who I now know is called Samantha.

"ASSAULTING HER!" Mrs Marshall exclaims, standing up properly. She stood at 5 foot 5 inches at a push. Just slightly smaller than my 5 foot 8 inch frame. "I was simply spanking her for graffitiing the school grounds!" I'm not quite sure if she is saying this to me or him?

"Yeah, well it wasn't her - it was me!" I tell them both. It wasn't, I just wanted to help the kid out. I feel bad for her. I release her arm so I can fold mine across my chest in what could be seen as a very petulant manner.

It's not unusual for me to be in the presence of angry teachers. In fact, it's quite normal if I'm honest. Since I was sent here by my father a little over 4 years ago, I have taken my frustration out on each and every teacher I have had.

You see, my father is Richard King. Owner and CEO of King Enterprises, a global tech organisation. He is a multi billionaire and pays for this boarding school. He bought it after my Mum died and then sent me here. All the teachers know who I am and who he is. Even though I get telling offs by them, they don't tend to push it too far as they are scared of my father. Of possibly losing their jobs. I know this, so I just go around doing what I want, when I want. I'd say consequences be damned, but there are no consequences - at least not for me.