CHAPTER ONE

Alexandria's POV

This was my damnation.

I had smoked a lot of weed, done so many bad things and finally, this was my punishment from God.

“Miss. Dria,” Eli waddled, snot dripping all over his clothes as he stretched his hands up towards me. I picked up the angry three year old, soft coos coming out of my lips. “What is it, baby?”

“Cassie pinched me,” he cried out, showing me a red spot in his hands. “All I wanted was the toys.”

The culprit was pretending not to hear her twin brother's cries, her face stoic with determination. “Cassie,” I groaned.

Her little blue eyes turned to me. “It, it's not me,” she cried, her words coming out in babbles. The poor girl had not yet managed to learn all her words, so it was very difficult for her to express herself. “All I want was to play.”

“Well you have to share with your brother,” I sighed, my eyes scanning the small classroom. “You know what I'm saying? Sharing is what?”

“Caring,” Cassie replied, tears swelling in her eyes too. Fuck no. I could not handle another crying toddler, not right now.

“Ethan,” I screamed. The young boy turned towards me, annoyance on his face. “Get down there at once.”

Dear heavens, why did I accept this job?

I was not good with children. Yet here I was, looking after a classroom with seventeen of them. Who knew they could be such, such little monsters.

I wiped the tears of Eli’s face and dropped him back to the ground. Little shit didn't bother saying thank you, instead, just running off back to the table he jand his sister shared with two more people.

Three hours left, Dria. You can do this.

“Dria,” a little girl in pigtails came up to me, her large blue glasses falling from her nose. “I poo poo.”

“Aww, in your pampas? That's okay, I'll help you clean up.”

“No,” she said, shaking her head vehemently. “I poo poo,” her little hand stretched out towards the end of the class. I followed her directions, and dread immediately filled my heart when I saw her hands were covered in some brown pudding-like substance. “I poo poo,” she repeated again, for good measure.

Sure enough, when I walked to the end, a foul smell was already rising from the piece of shit, but that wasn't the worst part.

Ethan, the class climber, rose to the top of his desk, and suddenly came crashing down. I stretched my hand, a scream leaving my throat but it was too late.

The boy was covered with shit already.

I waved as the last kid ran towards their parents' cars. “Bye Miss. Dria.”

Fuck, I would not be missing them. This summer was mine. Twenty one, hit and finally done with college. Dedicating these past three months to teaching them was fun, and as much as I loved the children, I didn't think I could handle a parent's skeptical eyes when I explained that their child’s clothes were changed again for the umpteenth time because they loved experimenting with their body fluids.

I shivered from PTSD. “Miss Thompson,” the headmistress walked briskly towards me. Headmistress Goldie was one of my moms’ friends and I had always been cautious about the older lady. After all my memories of her was she whooping me multiple times for one thing or another, but my mother assured me she had mellowed down now into being a crazy eccentric running a school for pre-teens.

“Hi,” I fake smiled. “I was just about to go look for you,” I said, causing her to glance at me weirdly. “Oh, and may I ask why?”

“Today is my last day,” I said, beating excitedly. Surely, she had not forgotten our deal.

“I did not realize three months were up already. How time flies,” she sighed, walking past me. I followed her closely, smiling at all the other teachers, and when she tried to close her swinging office door, I placed a palm against it.

There was nothing Margaret could say to convince me, this woman was crazy.

“What do you want?” She asked in surprise, her blonde brows flying to the top of her head. “To see you, headmistress,” I replied cooly, pushing the office door wider.

“Oh, sit down,” she said, going towards her side of her desk. Her office was small but neatly organized, compared to the mess that was my work station. “What do you want?”

“When I agreed to work here, we had a deal,” I reminded her, sitting on the couch. Goldie frowned, still feigning ignorance and I couldn't take it anymore.

“My payment, Ms. Goldie,” I snapped. “Along with the recommendation letter you said you would personally hand write for me, if I successfully completed three months here.”

“Oh,” she said. “Well, you don't have to be so rude. You could have just said so.” She opened her drawer and I relaxed. I loved my mother's, but having to depend on them to get my fix was draining me, this way, I was solid.

Goldie brought out a check book and a pen, flicked the pages open and wrote something on it. “There,” she said, stretching the paper out for me. “That's your payment.”

My eyes widened. “There has to be a mistake,” I groaned. “A hundred and fifty bucks?”

“This was a volunteer role, Alexandria,” she said in her scolding tone. “Now, I told your mother and I would keep my word and write you that recommendation letter, but I do not think you deserved it.”

“Why don't I deserve it?” I asked.

“Well, you are horrible with kids,” Goldie cried out. “All of them love you, yes, but for some reason, you lack the basic resources to be a teacher.”

I did not want to be a teacher. I wanted to become a professor of the mystic arts. “So what exactly are you saying?” I grunted, throwing the check to the desk. “I am not accepting this.”

“Well, I don't think you were worth the amount you asked for,” she squeezed her nose. “Maybe you should try being nice to me.”

I knew this would happen. “Keep your check,” I said angrily, getting up from her office. “And your silly letter too. I told Margaret this would happen.”

Goldie’s mouth dropped open but I didn't bother staying, slamming the door hard behind me as I left.