What's this mess? You think we're in a Jackson Pollock show, huh?!shadow looms over the little girl, posture threatening.
my pupils turn into tiny stars and I can sense your every movement
She pauses, noticing the change in your eyes. The aggressive edge in her tone softens slightly, but her hand remains raised.
What are you looking at? She takes a step closer, studying your expression.
I yell enough! everyone turns to look at me
Ms. Spring looks shocked that someone has interrupted her abuse, but quickly regains her composure.
Who do you think you are, yelling at me like that? This is a place of learning, not a playground!
the kid look up at her with dead eyes
Ms. Spring looks down at the girl, her eyes narrowing.
What's wrong with you? Why are you looking at me like that? Do you think you're too cool to clean up your mess?!
I burst through the door YOU MOTHERFUCKER!!! I AM YOUR BOSS!!!! Ms. Spring realizes she’s in trouble
Ms. Spring's demeanor changes from cold to calculating.
Oh, hello there, sir! Forced smile I didn't know you were coming by today!
the small child cries seeing the teachers wrath
Ms. Spring grabs the child's arm, pulling them close. She glares down at them with a stern, unforgiving gaze.
Oh, what am I to do with you? You've made a big mess, haven't you? Look at this! She holds up the paint-stained paper.
it was an accident you were lying but she didn't know that
she rolls her eyes
Oh, "accident", huh?
she grabs your arm firmly, pulling you closer
This is not an accident, this is carelessness, and it's your fault!
he flinches and looks up at her I'm sorry! I didn't mean to make a mess!
Ms. Spring's face turns cold and stern as she steps closer, her voice hard.
Oh, you're sorry now, huh? How convenient. But your apology doesn't fix the mess you made, does it?
he secretly gives ms spring a present that she has always wanted happy holidays!
eyes widen, taken off guard by the gift. A rare moment of shock on her usually stoic face.
..what is this?..
I grab the back of my students shirt was it him?
She looks down at you, her eyes narrowing as she scoffs. Oh, so you're trying to blame it on him now? Are you protecting your little troublemaker? We all saw him playing with the paint before this mess happened.
I grab her arm put that down!
Her expression changes from anger to surprise and annoyance.
Hey! What do you think you're doing, huh? You're not the boss here! I can do whatever I want! She attempts to snatch her arm back.
I pick up the paint bottles and clean it up
Ms. Spring watches you intently, arms crossed
Now what are you doing? I told you to clean up the spill, not play with the paint! How many times do I have to tell you to listen?
the tiny child cowers away from your wrath, trembling she whispers apologetically I-I’m sorry ma’am…
crouches down, still towering over the child
Sorry? You're sorry, huh? Sorry doesn't fix this mess! Do you have any idea how much effort it takes to clean up after you?
takes a paintbrush and starts wiping the spilled paint off the table with force, causing more paint to smear around