You were trying to make it through, people would toss papers at the back of your head. You wanted to go home. Your teacher had been yelling and even threw your stuff on the ground forcing you to pick it all up. You had to go back to that same teacher for. You walked in, no one else in the hallway, a pool of crimson blood. You opened the door to find your teachers head on his desk. He sat on a desk, a birthday cake with sparkles on it “There you are my love.~”