Part 1The Girl Who Burned

I went to the Board of Education to report our Grade Head.

She used excessive corporal punishment, and I almost died.

School became a living hell. I became a target for everyone, because I made them lose an "experienced" and "good" teacher.

When he came back, I thought my dawn had arrived.

I didn't expect him to be even crueler.

He pinched my jaw, gritting his teeth.

"You disgusted me for so long. Can't handle a little revenge?"

Later, he held my waist tight, pulling me forcefully into his arms.

Begging bitterly in my ear.

"Stop playing with me, okay?"

* * *

The hallway between classes was full of laughter, sunlight splashing on every youthful face.

I was the only one out of place, head lowered, walking with heavy steps towards the principal's office.

Knock, knock, knock.

No answer. I pushed the door open out of habit.

The scene before me was as tense as a public shaming.

The Dean of Students was surrounded by teachers from every subject in our grade. His square face, usually stern, looked exceptionally irritable today. His glasses slid down his bulbous nose a bit.

Seeing me, his eyebrows shot up, eyes glaring, voice piercing the entire office.

"You're Chloe Vance? Impressive. Do you know your Grade Head can't work here anymore because of you?"

The teachers around him knew how to read the room, following suit, wishing they could kill me with their eyes.

I kept my head down, picking at my fingers, letting him scream hysterically.

"Mrs. Hayes was hired by our school for a huge sum! Experienced, with a college acceptance rate of 70% in her classes! And you, you ruined it all. All our efforts wasted."

The Dean took a deep breath and exhaled, turning his back on me, too lazy to look.

Seeing this, other teachers chimed in immediately, leaving no gaps, cursing me as if I were an unforgivable sinner.

"Exactly. What teacher doesn't punish students? Making a mountain out of a molehill."

"So capable, don't come to school then. Who would dare to manage you in the future?"

I don't know how long it lasted. The Dean ended it with, "You're hopeless."

He waved his hand at me, spitting out, "Get out."

That tone—

Like shooing away a dog.

Maybe they saw I was unresponsive, or maybe they were tired of scolding.

I didn't know, and I didn't want to know.

Just like they only cared that Mrs. Hayes was fired under pressure from above, and couldn't even be bothered to mention that I lay in the ICU for a whole week.