The night before, everything was its usual miserable self. The school was damp and cold and smelt faintly of mold. The ground outside was the definition of unpleasant.
But anyone who slept in might be woken to an angry shout from the headmaster, Doc F. "THE LOCKET WAS SMASHED!" After which there would be crashing around in his office, but his door would be locked and he wouldn't reply to anyone knocking or calling in to check on him.
Lady Tremaine wouldn't be speaking much, if at all, her classroom door closed like a warning.
If Mother Gothel noticed anything amiss, it would be hard to tell as she sat in her classroom primping as usual.
But the Misery-called would not be so easily able to ignore what was going on, talkative as some of them could be.
The spray painting on the lockers that had words could no longer be read, nor could any other text. Since the television was generally locked in Doc. F's room there was no way to check on that to see how widespread the problem might be.
But a problem it is indeed...
But anyone who slept in might be woken to an angry shout from the headmaster, Doc F. "THE LOCKET WAS SMASHED!" After which there would be crashing around in his office, but his door would be locked and he wouldn't reply to anyone knocking or calling in to check on him.
Lady Tremaine wouldn't be speaking much, if at all, her classroom door closed like a warning.
If Mother Gothel noticed anything amiss, it would be hard to tell as she sat in her classroom primping as usual.
But the Misery-called would not be so easily able to ignore what was going on, talkative as some of them could be.
The spray painting on the lockers that had words could no longer be read, nor could any other text. Since the television was generally locked in Doc. F's room there was no way to check on that to see how widespread the problem might be.
But a problem it is indeed...