I came into school the other day,
And my teacher wasn’t there.
I heard the speaker go off,
Summoning me to the office.
The class started ‘ooing’
‘Oooooo Joey’s in trouble!’
I rolled my eyes and pushed the door open.
Walking down the hall,
I noticed students pressed up against the glass of the doors.
It bothered me a lot.
I reached the head teacher’s office and knocked.
They called me in and I pushed the door open.
She stared at me and gestured to the chair in front of her desk.
I sat down, completely oblivious to the question that came next.
‘Did you eat your teacher?’ she said.
‘What?’ I stared at her, then at my belly, and then back at her.
Did I eat my teacher?!
Of course not!
Was she going crazy? Who would eat their teacher?
‘Did you eat your teacher?’ She repeated, her eyes narrowing
behind her tortoise shell framed glasses.
‘No’
It was a simple enough answer.
And a truthful one.
‘I don’t believe you.’
She set her glasses down and interlaced her spindly fingers.
‘You what? Why would I eat the teacher?’ I exclaimed.
Her sour expression didn’t waver.
‘Yes. You did. I was informed by Miss Smiths. She folded her arms and glared at me behind her blonde fringe.
‘I didn’t eat my teacher, I swear o- wait, Miss Smiths told you?’ my interest began to spark.
She nodded.
My stomach did a flip of joy!
‘But everyone knows Smiths is a tattletale. She lies about almost everything!’
The headteacher put her glasses back on and rested them on the bridge of her beaky nose.
‘Is that so, Joey? Is that so?’
I nodded vigorously.
‘The story seems a bit extreme. Stand up’ she barked.
I stood, my jumper crumpled and my shirt poking out beneath.
She peered at my stomach and my hands moved instinctively towards it,
heat rising and an uncomfortable feeling inside me.
‘You may go’ she said finally.
I wiped my brow and sighed, walking to the door.
And that is the day I definitely did NOT eat the teacher!
