In a classroom, a fan twirled lazily. Through her hazelnut eyes, Clava looked up occasionally from her seat at the back of the class, only to find the teacher rambling away in his predictable manner. Clava soon grew bored. Her head drooped. Cupping her head in her hands, a pang for drawing shoujo manga hit her hard.
Silently, she picked a biro and extracted some paper from her bag. An intricate piece of art was forming through her short, tiny hands. To Clava’s horror, the teacher looked up and scoured the class with his alert, blue eyes. “Clava Teo! Look up! What is the square root of thirty-six?” he barked. Clava, the potential artist, looked up sharply. Even though she was puzzled, her stoic personality did not show it.
“I do not care for square roots. They are, often, the root of the problem.” Clava clearly enunciated. Several people giggled. Her eyes flashed shock now. Everything seemed to happen so fast. Aaand… were the words that flashed through her head. Already the teacher had barked, “Stand outside until I call you in!”
She trudged out of the class. Clava had done this for the last two years at least one day every week. Since then, she had nurtured that evil and cunning side not absent in all of us.
And nothing was compromised. At any cost, revenge was to be taken.