)Raina: The teacher called my name to perform my "oral presentation". I scraped my chair back, and it made an unpleasant noise, grating against the lino. I started performing, completely in character, and soon the class was in stitches. But when I looked to the teacher for approval half-way through, his already creased face was wrinkled further by a vulture-ish scowl. He squashed my confidence, and my voice trailed off. He growled, "Sit down," and I hurried to comply. He scrawled what looked like a messy "F", and a, "Detention after school" on the written copy of my talk, and my stomach dropped. I got up, despite the burning stares of my classmates. "Sir, you don't understand. I have a young daughter, and I have to take care of her."
He snarled at me, saying, "Don't make up such lies!" A stubbornness replaced my apprehension. I folded my arms. "It's true." By then, I didn't care what people were thinking. I heard whispers of "she's so young!" and the sl-word, but I set my jaw and continued. "And if you think I'm going to neglect my daughter, then you are wrong. You're a wrinkled up old man who can't stand to see other people live their lives, and I don't have to listen to anything you say."
I left, feeling righteousness and the sinking feeling I would soon be facing expulsion.
