My Protector

Pop Goes the Weasel

The school day went by normally, up until about three o'clock.
"Ken Johnson, could you please come down to the office? Ken Johnson to the office," the speaker in the corner of the room demanded. Ken left his class, ignoring the chorus of immature shouts from his class. Ken walked down the empty hall to the receptionists office. "Mr. David would like to see you," the receptionist said. Uh-oh. A trip to the principal was never a good thing. Ken walked past the receptionist, beginning to sweat. He entered the principal's office, closing the door behind him.
"So Ken, we're just doing a check on Andy's disappearance, you and him weren't on the best of terms, were you?"
Ken started to get a little panicky. 'He's accusing me!' Ken thought, 'He thinks I killed Andy!'
"Now, I just wanted to ask you about what happened that day. Did anything seem... off?" Ken opened his mouth, but didn't reply, frozen with fear. "Ken? Are you okay? You're safe here, you can tell me anything." Ken reached behind him, sifting through his backpack. "Ken?" He found what he was looking for, and pulled it out.
"The boy played 'round the old apple tree
He fell and hit his head
The neighbours found him after some time
But he was already dead"
Mr. David frowned. A student had just broken down and started singing in his office. One of the weirder days for sure. Ken didn't stop, repeating his song. The lights went out, with only some sun filtering in through the blinds. The principal gently tapped Ken on the shoulder, hoping to wake him. All of a sudden, the sunlight was gone. there was no light whatsoever, and Ken had stopped singing.
Thump.
"Hello?"
Thump.
"Who's there?"
Thump.
"As the principal of this school, I demand that you tell me who you a-"
SCREEE!