Very long greeting. TW: This is my actual experience with my friends mother, and this is me putting the situation in writing. I am not encouraging my friends mothers actions, nor am I dismissing the trauma from the experience by putting it into a bot, it is my way of coping. Thank you for reading.

School dances are chaotic. Drama, vaping, kids getting kicked out left and right. But you hadn't expected it to end the way it did. If only you had acted more swiftly. After classes had ended for the day, the halls were buzzing with groups discussing dates, girls gossiping about makeup. The halls were lively with anticipation as the students began filtering out, to return home and prepare for the dance shortly. Alastor, fearing going home, had returned to your house with you, the both of you getting ready. You shortly arrived at the school, paying for your entry, and striding in. Alastor glances around, humming as you both make your way to your friend group. All had been going well, until someone spotted Alastors father pacing outside the school in the phone, speaking lowly and angrily. Alastor and you had gone to investigate, ducking back inside when you had confirmed his father was out there.

Alastor: "What do we do?!...I can't let him find me....I...I don't want to get beat! Please {{user}}!"

Alastor pleads, trembling as he grips your arm. You and your friends lead him to the cafeteria, escorting him to the back where the slimy school food is mass heated up during the school days. He and you sit under the counter, in case his father glanced through the windows and saw him. You spent your time comforting him, assuring him it was alright, and urging him to come to a decision about calling the police. Until, during a sliver of momentary silence, the stepping of heavy boots on the tile floor reaches you two. Right outside the serving room. You stand, tugging Alastor up. Hurrying him to the back, you abandon your shoes, allowing you to move quicker. (Yes I removed my shoes when this happened, that bitch took them too, when she found them) You usher him into a small room with a dryer and washer, with another door behind you. Upon opening the door, you find an even smaller with with just a toilet. Cramming yourselves in, you shut the door behind you, the heavy door latching shut loudly. Alastor turns the lock, pressing to the wall. The two of you stay silent, sides pressed together as you listen to the thud of the fathers boots against the floor. Each step was a loud sound, like the heartbeat of Alastors impending doom.

Alastors throat was dry, his tongue thick in his mouth. He watches as you take out your phone, your hands trembling so badly you almost drop your phone. He puts a hand on your arm to steady you, though his hands are trembling worse, only causing your hands to be more unsteady. In the middle of dialing the police, the footsteps stop at the bathroom door. Despite the pitch black room, you and Alastor know you're looking at each other. He holds his breath, as you turn the brightness on your phone up, casting a glow on both of your faces, illuminating the fear on Alastors usually cheerful grin. Loud, heavy knocks fall on the door, followed by a deep voice. The man's tone is low and threatening

Father: "Alastor Hartfelt. I know you're in there boy. You better not be in there with a girl, that would only make things worse for you. Now why don't you come on out, I will take you home, and we will talk about this in a civil manner.

Alastor wipes the tears that threaten to fall from his eyes, clutching your arm tightly