The woman whipped around to glare at me, and I immediately found myself paralysed. Her eyes were unremarkable, appearing a cool grey although due to the distance I could not have been sure, the sheer coldness radiating from them kept me captivated irrespective of the space between us. They were frosty and indifferent, void of emotion, but reached inside of me with deathly hands, gripping my heart and squeezing it tight. I couldn't move. I couldn't breathe.

Her arms were folded against a blazer, white blouse and black skirt. She looked around thirty-something years old. A guarded face gave me a once over, nose wrinkling at my baggy joggers. Her hair was a light, soft blonde shade pulled back in a neat but unrestrictive bun. The woman's eyes were not gentle, however, they held a certain cognisance, as if they saw what they were really looking at.

"Nice of you to join us, Miss..."

"Slater. Emma Slater."

"Miss Slater, may I ask why you are late?" The woman inquired, her voice low and gravelly, the auditory equivalent of whiskey mixed with honey and touched by smoke.

"Lift broke," I mumbled, lifting my sketchbook out of my bag to place it on the table beside Kendra. My eyes met Finn's across the classroom. She didn't sit with us anymore: Kendra had kicked up a fuss. Leaning back ever so slightly so that Kendra couldn't see my face, I mouthed 'Sorry' to Finn, and she simply responded with a sad smile.

The new teacher, Mrs Elderflower, continued with what she had been saying before, a boring speech about our exams, coursework deadlines and a bunch of other stuff I didn't care about (although I knew I probably should). Before I knew it, my head was resting on my arms and my eyes had fluttered shut. I hadn't managed to fall asleep, but I was still in a daze as someone obnoxiously cleared their throat behind me.

"Miss Slater. Please stand outside."

Sliding out of my seat, I didn't protest as I trudged towards the door and entered the dark, stuffy hallway. A bratty little Year Seven stood in the hallway as the door opposite the one I had just come through opened.

"You can come back inside now, Andrew." said a tall, young, curvy blonde woman. The boy left, but Mrs Banks spotted me and walked to the end of the corridor. She smirked, "Seriously, Emma? Your first lesson with the new teacher," Mrs Banks glanced at her watch, "and twenty minutes in you're already sent out."

"All I did was fall asleep," shrugging, I leant against the wall. A concerned look replaced the smirk as she frowned.

"Emma... is everything okay?"

"Yeah," I sighed, "I'm fine. Just tired."

"Okay," Mrs Banks stepped forward, her eyes flickering to my lips in an odd way that made me rather uncomfortable, "I'm only looking out for you Emma, you know that. We go a long way back, don't we," With a smile, she placed an awkward hand on my shoulder and I laughed it off.

"Yeah, good memories of me borderline bullying you back in Year Eight!"

"Any memory with you is a good memory." Mrs Banks said softly, and I frowned, ready to ask what she meant.

"Ahem," Mrs Elderflower cleared her throat, her voice appearing somewhere behind me, and Mrs Banks flushed scarlet as if she had just been caught doing something entirely inappropriate.

"I, um," Mrs Banks stuttered, "I have to get back to my class, you know what Year Seven's are like. I wouldn't be surprised if I went back in there and they'd set the place on fire!"

That brought a smile to my face. "Yeah, good luck with that. Have fun."

"Will do. See you later, Emma," Mrs Banks nodded at the woman standing behind me before leaving to go back to her classroom. The door to her class opened and broke the awkward silence as I was engulfed in screams and a scene of utter devastation. Then it closed behind her and silence enveloped Mrs Elderflower and I like a blanket of ice.

"Care to explain why you fell asleep, whilst I was talking to the class, after arriving ten minutes late to my first lesson with you?"

"Uhh... no?"

"Excuse me?" she cocked a perfectly plucked blonde eyebrow and I grimaced.

"I dunno," Scratching my head, I sighed, "I'm tired."

"That is not a valid excuse, Miss Slater."

"Yeah, you're probably right. Sorry." I shrugged, and she looked slightly stumped at my lack of argument, before schooling her features back to neutral.

"Right. Yes. Well... Go back inside. Next lesson please ensure you're on time."

"Ok," I nodded at her. I was far, far too tired to argue. As I made to step around the tall, imposing blonde, she frowned.

"Are you making fun of me, Miss Slater?"

"I- What?"

"I'll have you know I don't tolerate any sort of attitude. I can see right through you."

"Um... good to hear?" I blinked, rather confused.

"That's it. I'm sick of your attitude."

"What attitude?" I laughed incredulously.

"Detention."

"I - what!?" I spluttered, convinced I was hallucinating.

"Would you like another one?" Mrs Elderflower raised her eyebrow imperiously, clearly enjoying having the upper hand once again.

"But-"

"Lunchtime Detention for a week, as well as a one-hour detention. With me." a smug smirk flashed upon her face before it disappeared, replaced with the steely mask she seemed to usually carry, "It's Monday, so you can start your week of lunchtime detentions today, and you will receive a letter in the post scheduling the hour one next week as protocol dictates," And with that, she turned on her heel and walked inside.

Confusion overtook anger as I blinked into the dim, yellow lighting. The bell rang, which surprised me. Sixth form lessons usually ended at five minutes to the end of the lesson, however, Mrs Elderflower appeared to have kept us in until the very end. Her voice rang out, muffled in the silent corridor, and I heard her mention the word 'Homework' before the door swung open and I glared at the woman. Grabbing my bag I left, heading towards the stairs, unable to face the confined space of the lift once more.

This month had been rather rough. Often, during a depressive episode, I find myself feeling quite lost. Not crying for weeks and weeks and then all of a sudden breaking down over something that shouldn't have upset me in the first place. Logically, I know I have things to do, but emotionally - they just don't register.

A way to describe it would be being trapped, standing in a soundproof glass bowl. I just sort of stand there, surrounded by my thoughts. And all my obligations, all my coursework deadlines and my jobs and my friends bang on the glass with deafening blows. I know they're there, I know they're important, I know how much they affect my future, and yet - I can't seem to find myself caring. I just stand there, watching it all unfold around me in muffled, deaf silence like... 'Ok'.

The very next day, there was no art lesson, but I found myself on the way to the art department anyway, dragging my feet.

"I'm glad you managed to make it to my detention on time, at least." the biting comment rang out in the silence. Across the room, Mrs Elderflower stood in the doorway of the art office and watched me enter the room with the smugness of someone who knew they held all the power. Behind her, I noticed Mrs Banks raise an eyebrow slightly, clearly surprised as to Mrs Elderflowers harsh tone. Feeling that her comment wasn't something that deserved acknowledgement, I walked forward so that I was standing in the middle of the classroom, folding my arms crossly.

"So... where should I sit?"

"There," Mrs Elderflower pointed a slender, manicured finger to the table right in front of her desk. A wedding ring flashed along with the movement as my eyes followed it, and I briefly wondered what would possess someone as rude as Mrs Elderflower. I took the seat at the table furthest away from her, but it wasn't much.

"Can I do my work?"

"No. You can sort these out," Mrs Elderflower placed a tray of colouring pencils in front of me. All the colours were jumbled up, so I began to move them into piles by colour. The clunk of pencils against the plastic tray was uncomfortably loud in the large, silent classroom, and I winced every time they made a particularly loud noise.

"Can you not do that any quieter?" Mrs Elderflower suddenly snapped. Her voice was ice-cold and filled with loathing. A pencil dropped out of my hand and clattered to the ground.

And then, I broke.

Mrs Elderflower's lips formed an 'o' shape as she sat, paralysed, watching me collapse to the floor. Sobs wracked my body and Mrs Banks rushed out of the office, followed by two other art teachers, an elderly man named Mr Creed and a young, fiery red-haired woman named Miss Wilms.

"What did you do to her!?" Mrs Banks hissed angrily. Mrs Elderflower said nothing, for she was experiencing some form of shock watching the scene unfold before her.

Mrs Banks spoke in a low, soothing voice, trying to get through to me, careful not to touch me or make any sudden movements that might startle me, much like a caged animal. Mr Creed hovered about awkwardly in the background, unsure of how he could contribute. Miss Wilms darted back into the office and phoned the school nurse.

A few minutes passed and the nurse arrived with a wheelchair. Mr Creed returned to his office, as did Miss Wilms, who was sporting a concerned look on her face. The school nurse wheeled me out, Mrs Banks in tow, who herself looked on the brink of tears.

The door to the art office swung shut slowly, and the silence in the room reached a deafening decibel. Mrs Elderflower could hear the erratic pounding of her heart as if it had been wired up to a speaker, and she glanced down at her hands, noting with worry, and slight fascination, how they trembled uncontrollably. The art teacher placed her hands in her lap and took a long, slow, deep breath. Her heart began to beat even faster, as she sat alone in that stuffy room and wondered what the actual hell had just happened.