School: My Africa

His mouth opened and closed like a predator at a feast. His eyes stared hungrily into mine. He was a lion, proud of his capture that was unimportant to anything else. I was the prey; the poor captured antelope left for dead by his pack. Although my teacher ate at me, I was not dead yet. He tore at me with “Late, unprepared, insubordinate, unnecessary, unwanted, humiliating”. His words were vicious teeth that I was unable to stop. But I could not take much more; his attack was too vicious for one person to endure. He was eating away at the foundation of my self-control, when something took over.

I raised my hooves, yelling back my pitiful, but effective defense. He stepped back with a face of anger and wonder. I heard the beast growling as I left the battleground. This was no victory; he was merely stunned, but I gave myself enough time to catch up with the pack. He had tasted my blood, so I know he will be back for a second attempt, but I could at least enjoy myself for the few moments of peace I earned