I’d like to see what you look like with your head off. You flick your hair one more time...
Nasty. Nasty Silvikrins. Crawling all over her. Urgh.
I try and concentrate on my marking, but the clock is bothering me. In less than an hour this will all be over. In front of me twenty-three of my students are writing a timed essay, they’re discussing how psychological research has contributed to an understanding of Bystander behaviour. They don’t have a clue that this is the last time they’ll ever have a lesson with me.
I look again at Jessica Flintoff. She’s crooked right over her paper, writing furiously, going for another A. She doesn’t have a clue that as soon as she leaves this room I’ll be ripping her essay to pieces and eating it.
How would you look Jess? If I just took a hammer to the bridge of your nose? How would you look if I tried to pluck out one of your eyes, or cut off your breasts?
Silvikrins. God. They're coming down fast.