The Teacher
Sally Williamson had been the star pupil at her university and despite the wishes of her family had been determined to push forward with a teaching career. Her life had been one of plenty, and she told herself she needed to do something on her own.
She had many brief flings at University building up a broad sexual knowledge from the men she dated. Sally was stunning, her slim figure, blue eyes and long blonde hair would always supply another Beau immediately after the latest one had disappeared. She was hardly ever single even if she rarely felt happy.
A few men had hung around, and Sally had been forced to dump them, but most had grown quickly bored of her. Men found her studious approach annoying and her mechanical love making frustrating. It had to be her way or the highway, and with no shortage of potential conquests at a university this made boyfriends quickly move on even from one so alluring.
Occasionally she was sad to see one go, but she always reminded herself that she was doing it her way. Her family would see that she could make a difference. To her and her middle-class upbringing making a difference meant helping yummy mummies bring up their little darlings and assist them in fulfilling their ambitions.
Her world had been a narrow one and within that world achievement was all that mattered.
She had passed with the highest grades possible, but then the shock of the real world hit. Outside the bubble of the university was a really hard environment for teachers. The toughest economic conditions seen in years meant the yummy mummies were sending their children to state schools, and private schools were cutting back. The low birth rate had meant there were lots of spaces in state classrooms and those schools had no need to expand.
In the months, leading up to leaving University and the summer break she had only been offered one job and she surely would not take that. The Mary Bronson Comprehensive was in the roughest part of the inner city-centre and was no place to make a difference she thought.
However, here she was in her car driving to that school on the first day of term about to start her career teaching Maths and English to their 17-18 year old pupils. These young adults should be doing further education, but not at the Mary Bronson, these guys were in the last chance salon retaking GCSE's before the school finally kicked them out.
In the car, she cursed her father for constantly telling her how she was wasting her life trying to be a teacher. Out of pride and, a desire to shut him up she told him she was taking the job. He had laughed at first, but when she showed no sign of giving up the plan he had fallen silent.
Finally, he helped buying her a sensible little flat near the school in what he called a safe area. She had accepted the gift as she always had with a resign air wishing he would offer love instead of money.
She parked her car, took a deep breath, and headed into school, grimly ignoring the woof whistles and jeers around her. She wanted to run away, but she couldn't face telling her father he was right.
The boy
David Brown was bad news.
As he travelled through the school he got bigger, stronger, and nastier. As he walked into school that same morning as Sally did he was feeling confident about the year ahead
His naturally athletic build meant now at eighteen he was the strongest and fastest around. The power this gave him was something he planed to abuse even more than he had in his previous years.
He knew all the students feared him, but he also knew a lot of the staff did too. There would be a lot of fun ahead bullying the weak and breaking rules.
There was one thing he was good at art. In art he never had to try, all his paintings and drawings were excellent. To many his best pieces of work would appear dark and edgy, but that was not unusual of young adults. In art he got an A, in everything else he got F's.
The teachers had grown tired of trying to make him see that if he knuckled down and got pass grades in Maths and English then he could go to art school and make a future for himself. They could get stuffed was all he ever thought of that.
Once a teacher had even tried to appeal to his parents to help David see how good grades would mean all that artistic talent would not go to waste. Unfortunately, this was hopeless. His father was long gone, and his mother got by with her cleaning job and nights out with various "uncles." The teacher would quickly learn his mother saw no value in education and even less in art. To her David was an accident, a bad boy, a waste of time, and would be a thorn in her side for the rest of her days.
So David learnt to survive by "borrowing" other people's pocket money and taking what ever else he needed. The constant trouble that got him in was just a minor inconvenience. He wasn't popular, girls avoided him, but when he spoke people listened and when he barked people jumped. He liked that.
His world was also a narrow one and within that world control was all that mattered.
The class
When the headmaster walked with Sally into her classroom the unruly gathering made the colour drain from Sally's face. The students actually were being quite well behaved having subconsciously decided not to push the limits too far on their first day back, with the threat of an unknown teacher and the inevitable visit from the headmaster.
"Class silence. Silence class," bellowed the headmaster, and his pupils dutifully fell silent and slumped or slouched into their seats. "This is Miss Williamson your new teacher," he continued, "I trust you will make her very welcome."
The boys in the class slowly realised that this stunning woman in trousers, and a blouse was their new teacher and this produced more wolf whistles and jeers.
"SILENCE," bellowed the headmaster making all the kids grin at the way his bellowing made his face go red. The students saw their new teacher's face redden too, and they exchanged smiles, this should be fun.
"Good morning 12r," Sally finally managing to make her voice work amid the shock of the chaos and unruly behaviour.
The girls in the class having immediately hated her for her good looks smiled to themselves realizing that she was a fish out of water, a couple of them making "ooooooohhhhhhhh 12r" sounds at her posh accent and being called by their proper class name.
"SILENCE," bellowed the headmaster again, producing an even deeper shade of red before he fled the classroom excusing himself quickly.
"Yea off you go before you have a heart attack you old git," laughed David. The class collapsed in fits of giggles as it always did when David led the trouble.
