Emperor of Mayhem

77 [ part two]

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BLOOD ON HER MIND
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Some crazy weeks ago, we had a substitute Chemistry teacher because our real teacher was doing a destination wedding so he was at some sea, maybe the Atlantic, saying I Do to God knows who. 

Basically, the moment the new teacher walked into the class that week, I hated him. 

I didn't know why but whenever the corner of his lips would curve and he attempted what others might call a smirk, all I would want to do was to tear off his lips or gouge out his stupid green eyes.

And he was so mean to me. I mean, I get it, when it came to mixing chemicals or calculations of those said chemicals, I was hopeless, but that didn't mean he had the right to treat me like shit or demean me. But he did it. Constantly.

Whenever he was solving an equation on the board, he would always find joy in asking me for answers or calling me out to the board to solve a question, knowing I would fail somehow. He always had a blast making students laugh at my supposed stupidity. 

I'd consumed his bullshit to a point that I couldn't wait to kill him, drive my dagger through his chest ten times and pour acid over it.

Mikhail gave me a gun and a dagger a month ago. Self defense, he clearly said when he handed them to me. But for days now, I had been thinking of using the dagger on a certain man. But the littlest bit of humanity in me kept holding me back. 

So what if he hated the fact that I was just a common dark-skinned girl getting preferential treatments from all the teachers and the principal? 

Who cared if he let his shallow, racist mind cloud his judgment of me? Killing him wouldn't be any justification if he hadn't physically harmed me.

That cautioning voice was constantly in my head, but I wasn't sure for how long until I'd shut it up for good and skin the man alive.

Anyways, after our class with him earlier today, he shared the script from the test we had written some days back. Reaching my desk, he looked at me with the same condescending, snide eyes and threw my paper at me lazily, then went ahead to ask me to meet him after school concerning my poor grades. 

After looking at the fat F on my pretty script, I tucked the paper in my bag, very ready to meet him and demand what the hell his problem was. I knew my history with Chemistry was bad but I always strived for a C at least. How could he give me an F?

But I went to the Chemistry lab where he told me to meet him and found it empty. Though he left behind a message on a sticky note and stuck it to his name plate. I assumed the note was for me. He did ask me to meet him after school. And the sticky note read 'I will be in the computer lab'

Shiro, on the other hand, felt the note wasn't addressed to me and believed that if indeed, it was for me, then the man was up to no good for calling me into the computer lab, the room that would be quiet, dark and empty after school. 

If my driver/bodyguard didn't see me outside the school after fifteen minutes, he would come charging in or alerting Mikhail. So I told Shiro to go tell him that my class was having an after school detention.

When Shiro left, I pushed open the door and stepped into the quiet room. The bulbs were turned off and the only source of light was from one of the desktops that had a YouTube video playing from it.