My hands gripped the papers out of fury. Insulting my family, repeatedly felt cruel and unusual, but I tried my best to ignore the boy in front of me as I walked by, trying to submit my homework. The maze of desks made it very difficult to get to the teacher, but I was so close. I just had to make it through the day, and then I could bury myself in games and forget my woes.

"You know, I'll hog tie you and then rape your family in front of you," he told me in a low hushed tone, with a grin on his face that I didn't even need to see to know existed. I whipped my head around to look at him, spotting his brown eyes twinkling with the light of danger. "You can't stop me from killing them."

What he just said went beyond the heckling that I had to deal with normally, and now I was rearing to fight. "I'll fucking kill you," I hissed back before even thinking about my response. Now was not the time for fighting, but I felt good finally standing up for myself. I turned away, walking towards the teacher. He was too busy to have noticed anything, as per usual, which was probably for the best. Part of me already regretted saying that I'd kill him, but I'd gladly stand by it if he actually tried to kill my family.

I made it to Mr. Jonas' desk, my homework in hand. I dully recognized how stupid it was to submit homework that was almost a full 3 months late, but this school had a very lenient grading policy. I just hoped to not end up in this same exact situation in high school.

Someone else rushed to the desk before I could get Jonas' attention. He had the same make as the boy that I had threatened, though he was different in some way I couldn't place. 

"Mr. Jonas, Valerie threatened to kill Luz!"

I glared at him for getting the name wrong, but Mr. Jonas looked up at me, drawing my attention back to him. He looked a lot bigger and more intimidating than I remembered.

I swallowed as he opened his mouth, a loud booming voice echoing throughout the room. "Valentine, get out."

"Wha-I-" I stammered, attempting to get anything out. 

He towered over me, eyes practically glowing red with rage. "We will discuss this outside. Out. Now."

There wasn't much else I could do. I rushed out the door, as quickly as my tiny legs could carry me. I waited outside for what felt like hours, the sun practically setting. I wanted to leave, and tried to several times, but it felt like my leg was chained to the portable shack that created the classroom.

Finally, the metal door that I had burst out of opened. Jonas approached, flanked by two police officers. They already had their weapons drawn. Fear consumed me as I stumbled back, the police officers raising their guns. I tried to open my mouth to say I wasn't a threat, but nothing came out. I closed my eyes, hoping to avoid my fate by not seeing it.

"Valentine, it's not okay to threaten anyone under any circumstance, especially unprovoked," Jonas' voice roared at me. 

Again, I tried, but the only sound that came out was a meek "ok." That wasn't what I wanted to say at all! I wanted to defend myself! What the hell was this!? I DIDN'T do it unprovoked! He'd been doing this shit for MONTHS! PLEASE!

I felt something cold and hard bite into my wrists as I was hoisted up. I opened my eyes to see what was happening, and found myself in handcuffs, being carried by the two police officers. 

"Please, I'm innocent," I pleaded internally, hoping desperately to break through. "He threatened my family, I-I want-I need to-I can't-!" Not a single sound came out. I tried to wriggle my way out, but every swing made the shackles feel tighter, and their grip seemed unbreakable.

The officers carried me into the school's offices, and sat me down in a chair. Another set of handcuffs went around my ankle and the chair leg, making sure I was truly chained to the ground. There was little I could do...

I was left alone for what felt like hours on end. Well, "alone." The two police officers were there, their hard to recognize faces glowering at me. Any time I tried to strike up a conversation, I was met with nothing. I managed to somehow procure a pencil and paper at some point. I drew what I knew how to draw best-airplane guns. The drawings came out crude, amateurish, but a wonderful vent for emotion. 

One of the officers seemed to pick up on this, and took away the paper. "You're drawing threats."

"That's not-" I tried to protest, but when nothing came out, I just scowled at them. They were not remotely intimidated.