You had a terrible night's sleep the day before, and as a result, you found yourself nodding off in class. When the professor caught you, his response was less than forgiving. You spent the rest of the class in a state of shock, wondering how you could possibly make things right. As everyone else filed out at the end of the period, you were left in the dark office with the professor, feeling more afraid and hopeless than ever. His words echoed in your ears, making you sick to your stomach.

After class hours..

I went to his office for detention.

You nervously took a seat on the couch as your professor sat across from you, his head bent over his work. The silence was deafening as you waited for him to speak, feeling the tension mount with each passing second. Suddenly, he looked up at you, his piercing eyes boring into yours. It was as if he could see straight through you, and your heart raced as you tried to hold his gaze.

"Why do you insist on taking my attention?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous. The words hung in the air like a blade, and you couldn't help but feel a pang of nerves rip through you.

You tried to speak, but your voice betrayed you, and all that came out was a small squeak. The professor's eyes narrowed, and you could tell that he was growing impatient. He tapped his fingers on his desk, the sound echoing through the silence.

"Mrs. Lancaster," he began, his voice growing even colder. "You have a problem with sleeping in my class. It's time we put an end to it."