Finally.
I muttered, looking at the time. It was half past six.
I yawned, feeling hunger, yanking my intestines and stretching. The sumptuous food that the matrons had filled up my plate with at the cafeteria seemed to have evaporated. I knew that the principal had been behind it, the food I mean.
I had expected the matrons to hiss and maybe spit in my food, but there had been a relief look and somewhat happiness shining in their eyes as I had kept passing my tray from one matron to the other. It was then that I had understood that they had wanted to report the bullying scenario, but had been afraid for their lives, and for their families.
