BackTalk And Shenanigans

Val’s P..O.V

As we kept walking in the academic block corridors, the heavy oak door of the principal’s suite clicked shut behind Brielle and I with a sound like a tomb sealing such that Vienna and the other girl that were long lost in thin air had turned and I could spot them from the dark end of the hallway. I blinked, momentarily disoriented by the sudden sensory overload, the sensory overload of lockers, the shriek of laughter, the thumping bass leaking from someone’s earbuds. One silly student left one of the speakers of his earpiece and it was deadbeat disturbing, It had just dawned on me that we had reached close to the class row. Freedom, yet it felt like stepping onto a mini-field.

I had just summarized that standing before school authorities and coming out safe with no cringeworthy punishment is the worst that could happen. But little did I know that I couldn’t escape from noisy chatter and piercing eyes that these students I was staring at treated.