Needless to say, my experience in the basement was horrific. I was only wondering about the sentence my peers would live in this dungeon to nowhere. I was oblivious of the teacher. I can't even pretend to remember what she looks like. So unusual other than I was totally fixated on my new predicament. I questioned what I had done to receive this sentence. I was told by our principal that it would be better for me. She smiled so friendly, cynical in nature. All she had to do was sneer.
I brought the stories home, but with little protest. i was just wondering. We all did not know better. At least, my father who was the pillar of knowledge never let on that there was something wrong.
Fortunately, my father had tucked away the home number of Ms. Vogelsang. He relayed my predicament and wanted clarification as to how to deal with the situation. He had told about my experiences and observations. Remember, I was only 8 and perhaps the merit of those events weighed heavily on that age. She assured my father that she would call her friend, the superintendent of SF, once more on our behalf and explain the mitigating circumstances and the punitive actions taken by our principal
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