Isabella is a new teacher at St. Paul's Private school. A lot to learn dealing with brats
|"Well class, today is a beautiful day!" Isabella Rodriguez smiled at her sixth grade class, "I'm going to finish checking your tests from yesterday and I hope everyone of you has an A+!"
A beautiful Hispanic woman of Cuban descent, with large, liquid brown eyes. She has a clear face, full lips, a medium sized nose, and thin eyebrows.
Thick and soft dark brown hair cascades over the right front side of her shoulder. Average American height, and has a body most of her co teachers eye with quiet jealousy. She does work for it. Every morning before and after school, she goes jogging.
Isabella is a gentle lady, speaking softly in a slight Spanish accent, but still firm enough with her students that the parents all appreciate her.
She had so badly wanted to teach! Sixth grade was not exactly what she had in mind when she graduated. Still, Isabella didn't want to complain, she had a lot to be thankful for, especially since teaching a bunch of spoiled bra- Isabella caught herself. Stop there. The moment she started calling her students brats was the time she would turn into a grouchy old teacher like Mrs. Calder next classroom over. Mrs. Calder was a hurricane if her students made her angry. More than once Isabella had heard her throwing things and screaming in the room next door. Isabella had concernedly run over the first time it had happened. She had entered the classroom and was quite surprised at the sight: books were thrown everywhere, some of the kids were crying, all of them were staring at their desks like they wished they could disappear into it. And Mrs. Calder was calmly readjusting her glasses, like she had just had a nice, calm talk about the lesson. Isabella had stared open mouthed at the scene. Mrs. Calder had sweetly asked if something was wrong, to which Isabella, finally closed her mouth and shook her head. She left the room, wondering how Mrs. Calder was able to keep her job. Later that same day when all the teachers gathered together for a snack afterwards, Isabella had called Mrs. Calder out on her behavior.
"Why did you yell at your students like that? Isn't that a little uncalled for?" Isabella had gently asked. She felt strongly about being a good example.
Mrs. Calder had pushed her glasses further up the bridge of her nose. "Young lady, how long have you been teaching at St. Paul's?"
"First year. You know tha-"
"You will speak when I am finished." Mrs. Calder had interrupted. "I have taught here for forty-two years. There is no one with more experience than I. When you disturbed my class this morning you challenged my authority over the children. Do not do that again," The woman finished sourly.
What had happened after that was an argument between Isabella and Mrs. Calder about the pros and cons of screaming at your students.
Isabella had remained calm, but countered every argument Mrs. Calder came up with. The older teacher had lost her cool, and began yelling at Isabella. Spittle flew from her mouth as she voiced her opinions. For her part, Isabella did not scream back at the woman. Instead she stuck to her guns until she tripped Mrs. Calder up in her logic. Isabella has a high I.Q., which proved to be Mrs. Calder's undoing. The woman finally left the break room in a rage, staring black orbs of hate at her.
Mr. Young, a good teacher and one she thought was kind of handsome, had tried to soothe her afterwards, telling her that Mrs. Calder was a tough cookie. The balding Mr. Dover hadn't said anything, just kept reading his "USA Today."
Isabella hadn't been particularly happy, making enemies on her first term. She couldn't help it though, it was a wrong approach to act like Mrs. Calder. True, they could be very bratty, but Isabella had the patience of Job when it came to working with people. Isabella graduated one year ago, majoring in languages, namely: French, English, Italian, German, Japanese and of course Spanish. Her mother said she had a gift for tongues, and Isabella believed it, pushing it to the max. She had hoped for a university position, but things hadn't exactly panned out. Then she had found out about St. Paul's private boarding school. Rich families. That was about the best way to describe it. This school was for the wealthy, not necessarily the brightest minds. Being rich doesn't make you smart, as Isabella had witnessed.
The students all wore uniforms here. Shirt and ties for all, with boys in pants and girls in skirts. The teachers didn't have to wear uniforms, and Isabella was happy with that. She herself wore an emerald cardigan over a white tank top, the sleeves on the cardigan were pulled up to her elbows.
Stylish dark blue jeans accentuated her hips with high heeled wedge cream sandals. She brushed a stray hair out of her face, frowning a little at the test papers she was grading. It was the last test sheet to grade. Her brow smoothed out as she smiled, all the tests had a %100! Isabella had promised her class of twenty-three students that if all of them got %100 they could have an afternoon off doing whatever they wanted. Isabella gave them several options: get some ice cream, go to Chuck E Cheese's, go to a park, etc.
Most of her students seemed to be apathetic towards their studies. Isabella tried. She did her best to make it interesting. She is a fairly creative person, loves children, and as mentioned before is very patient. These three qualities make her an excellent teacher. These kids though, they weren't impressed by much. So she was more than a little shocked that they all got an A+. She shuffled papers as she smiled to herself. Maybe they were getting somewhere after all.
Deep down inside, she knew they could do it. An optimist, Isabella likes to believe the best in people. Most teachers at this school seemed to get discouraged with the students, often resulting in apathy, like the bald Mr. Dover, or a quick temper, like Mrs. Calder. Isabella knew there was a better way. She checked her watch. Time to give the students their test results. Isabella got to her feet and began passing the test papers out to each of her students
As she passed out the papers, she noted her pupils expressions. They all seemed to be anticipating something. Isabella smiled to herself, she wondered what the students would pick for their prize. Isabella returned to her desk after passing out the papers, sat down in her high back, brown leather chair, smiling at them. No one smiled back.
"Alright class!" Isabella beamed, "I have a surprise! Every single one of you achieved an A+!"
The students all sat still. Some of them did look genuinely happy, most however, had an impatient appearance, "Let's get this over with" type of look.
Isabella would not be dissuaded, "So" she rubbed her hands together excitedly, "What do you all want to do?"
One of her students, Judah, raised his hand.
"We want to tie you up," Judah answered.
"Tie me up? Why?" Isabella was puzzled. Why not Chuck-E-Cheese's? Or a park? Another pupil, Tori, raised her hand. Isabella nodded her assent.
She noticed they were being unusually respectful, raising their hands and not being disruptive.
"We want to play out a hostage situation, like if you were captured and tied up, could you escape?" Tori explained. Tori was her smartest pupil. The explanation made more sense, but still. Who picks a make believe hostage situation over Chuck-E-Cheese's? Isabella decided that things are definitely different from when she was a kid. Maybe these kids went to amusement parks every weekend?
"Are all of you wanting to do this?" Isabella frowned slightly.
They all nodded in an invigorating fashion. Then one of the students, Truman, began chanting, "Tie you up! Tie you up! Tie you up!" the rest of them joining in unison.
The volume increased, until Isabella held up her hands. "Okay! Okay!" she all but shouted. Immediately they quieted down, "How do you want to do it?"
Tori and Judah quickly got up and ran to her desk. "We want to tie you to the chair, like really really good. And gag you so you can't call for help. It has to be realistic," Tori explained.
Isabella was not so sure, "I guess, I'm just not-"
"Yippee! Let's do this!" Judah yelled, interrupting her.
The rest of the students, as one it seemed, came forward. They all began talking and it sounded like a zoo. Hard to be heard above the racket.
Isabella sat in her chair, while little hands yanked off their neckties and used them to bind her wrists to the arms of the chair, "Are you sure you should be using your-"
"Open up, Teach," Tori held up a balled up tie with a roll of Scotch tape, shouting above the noise. Isabella hardly even noticed students tying her legs to the roller chair wheel. They had also ripped up the American flag in the corner, tying it around her waist, above and below her breasts. Isabella was focused on the tie Tori wanted to cram in her mouth.
"Why do you want to put that in my mouth?"
"It has to be realistic!" Tori exclaimed.
Isabella opened her mouth to object, she didn't need to gagged like that, really, when Judah came out of nowhere, pushing his own balled up tie in past her lips. "Mmmppphhh!?" Isabella just managed to close her mouth over the tie.
"I wanted to use my tie!" Tori snapped angrily at Judah.
Judah stuck out his tongue at her.
Isabella repositioned the wadded up tie with her tongue, preparing to spit it out when Tori began wrapping the Scotch tape around her head, over her closed lips. Now, Isabella had figured they would just tie her hands, and maybe put a rag over her mouth. That would be easy enough to get out of. To her chagrin, she had a tie in her mouth and Scotch tape being wrapped around her head. Glancing down, she saw ties all over her arms and wrists, pinning her to the chair.
Another student came forward, holding an armful of Scotch tape rolls.
Five minutes later and Isabella was slightly peeved. The thing about children, Isabella mused, is that they don't know when to quit. She stared at twenty-three empty rolls of Scotch tape. All of it wrapped around her mouth and head.
"Mmrrrggg! Mmmppphhhhhh!" Isabella tried to tell them enough was enough, but they ignored her pleading. She was trying to not get angry, to stay in control of the situation. Twenty-two ties (one in her mouth), a ripped up American flag (to her disgust), and three jump ropes (really?) secured her wrists, forearms, biceps, chest, waist, thighs, calves, and ankles. "Ffrrrmmmmffff!" Isabella tried to demand they untie her immediately, frowning at her students, a little embarrassed to be rendered so helpless. Her anger was steadily growing also.
Some of the students were off messing around, now that Isabella was immobilized. Tori and Judah, those br- Isabella caught herself, she had to stay in control of her emotions. I need to remember my classes on keeping a handle on school situations.
Tori and two other girls approached, waving tubes of Elmer glue. Isabella raised an eyebrow, what was that for?
"Mmmrdrffsspppmmmm! Ggrrrmmmmmfff!" She tried to tell Tori.
Instead of listening, her brightest pupil began smearing Elmer's glue over her taped mouth. Isabella tried shaking her head, but another girl held it while the glue was applied. "MMMMMMMMPPPPPPPFFFFRRRGGG!" Isabella demanded, losing her cool just a little.
"Teach, teach, this was the deal, we do whatever we want if we got the grade. Well we did, right?" Tori giggled like the schoolgirl she was.
Isabella shook her head, moaning in irritation and communicating that no, this was not the deal. Already the applied glue was stiffening her taped mouth, making it all but impossible to move jaw. She thought for a bit, If they would just ungag me I could probably talk them into untying me. Maybe use reverse psychology on them.
That, admittedly, seemed less and less of a possibility.
The kids broke out their phones, texting and watching YouTube. Some of them began filming Isabella, who shook her head while trying to talk some sense into them. They are not supposed to play with their phones in school. Her muffled grunts were ignored.
Suddenly the door to the classroom opened, and Mr. Young, the science teacher, peeped in. The noise was loud as ever, playing havoc on the eardrums.
"Mmmmhhrrrggmmffff!" Isabella looked at him with frantic, yet embarrassed eyes. It was distressing to her that she didn't have things under control, and a deep blush began at the base of her neck and worked its way up to her cheeks. Especially for Mr. Young to see her like this, since she thought he was kinda cute, not to mention smart. Mr. Young took one look at the kids running wild, opened his mouth to say speak, then closed it, shook his head, and slammed the door shut.
"MMMMMMMPPPPPPPPHHHHHHH!" Isabella screamed after him to come back, not that he could hear her. The coward! I definitely don't think he's cute now. What kind of school is this?
One of the students approached her. Cynthia, one of her sweetest students.
"Mmmrrrggh?" Isabella asked hopefully.
Cynthia shly held up several markers. "I would like to draw on your face." She said.
Isabella shook her head. No markers! She imagined all the teachers coming in after school, seeing her tied helplessly to a chair, and she began yanking at her bonds again.
Cynthia pulled the cap off one of the markers and started to trace Isabella's lips under the scotch tape.
Isabella involuntarily jerked her head.
"Hold still! Or I'll get it all over your face!"
Sighing reluctantly, Isabella held motionless.
Cynthia began tracing her lips with a red marker, giggling to herself.
"Mmp mmphh mmppdf?" Isabella questioned.
Cynthia stared blankly at her. Before Isabella could try again, Tori and Judah came up, smirks on their faces. Isabella frowned, she didn't like the looks of this. Those two had been the ringleaders, and the way it played out in Isabella's mind, she had no doubt this had been a premeditated plan of her unruly school kids. She hoped the pay would be worth it. And boy oh boy would they ever get homework. Isabella knew complaining to the parents, for the most part, would get her nowhere. So loads of homework it'd be.
"See this video we posted of you?" Tori held it up for Isabella to see. On the video, Isabella could be seen allowing herself to be tied to the chair, then gagged. It had 200 hits already. Isabella's cheeks burned hotter than ever. Why those brats! Yes, she said, or thought, the 'b' word. Freakin', spoiled, privileged brats. The nerve! Posting it on YouTube!
"Ggrrmmmddffffffmmmmppppl!" Isabella moaned angrily.
"Sorry teach, but this is way more fun than anything you suggested."
Brats. Brats. Brats. All of them. Isabella knew things were out of control, but had no idea what to do. All the prep work she had done could not have prepared her for this. The normally calm, sweet Hispanic woman was quietly seething, biding her time. She looked forward to tomorrow.
Three hours later, and the students were leaving, waving goodbyes on the way out.
"Bye ya Teach!"
"See ya later, alligator!"
"After a while, crocodile!"
"So loooong Teachy!"
"Mmmppphhh!" Isabella's moaning remark was not a goodbye or farewell. Nope, rather it was an angry retort. No amount of glares, moans, or squirming could get the pupils to untie her, and for the last three hours they had literally destroyed the classroom. They had gone through her desk, spilled water on her, went through the broom closet. She sighed miserably, mindlessly pulling on her wrist bonds.
Wait. Were they coming loose? They sure didn't feel as tight. Isabella was ecstatic, finally! She worked her right hand, rubbing hard and getting the ties around her wrist and forearm to come loose.
Isabella felt smug, those kids weren't half as smart as they thought. She reached over to free her left hand when-
"Miss cool, calm, and stupidly collected! You're not going anywhere!"
Isabella glanced up in surprise. Mrs. Calder!
"Mmpphh!" Isabella moaned.
Mrs. Calder held several belts in her hands. Where did she get those?
Isabella didn't know what was going on, but speedily began to untie her left hand. Mrs. Calder took hold of Isabella's right arm, forcing it back on the armchair rest. Isabella fought with all she had, but her arm was still numb. The older easily wrapped a belt around her wrist, cinching it nice and snug. The belt was old, Isabella observed.
"Mmmpppphhh!" Isabella hollered into her gag.
"You are most likely wondering, where did I get these belts?" Mrs. Calder spoke very properly, not using contractions. "Well, forty years ago when I taught here a teacher was allowed to spank pupils. An exercise I gladly engaged in, much to the consternation of the students. Although now it is against the law, I still keep them around. I never know when they might come in handy," Mrs. Calder smiled thinly.
Isabella's eyes were full of frustration, anger, and embarrassment. Being in the presence of another teacher in such a helpless state made her feel discomfited. She "mmph'd" at the older teacher.
Mrs. Calder fastened another belt around Isabella's left wrist. "I am very happy to see you in this situation, Isabella."
"Indeed, the students did an excellent job on the gag. I cannot understand a word you are saying. What you need, my non yelling co teacher, is a lesson in humility."
I'll show you a lesson in humility, soon as I'm out of this, Isabella thought.
"You will stay here until the janitor finds you, disappointing as that sounds. Whatever plans you had for tonight will have to be postponed, I am sorry to inform you," Mrs. Calder did not look sorry.
"Ffrrmmmmffffggg! Ddrrmmmdffmpppp! Qrrmmmffgddxtttrrfffmmmmm!" Isabella's words were far too censored to understand, but Mrs. Calder got the hint.
The older woman wrapped the last belt around Isabella's feebly kicking feet, and tied it to the rolling chair's center pole with the fourth and final belt, "Do not be concerned about the other teachers finding you. I will be sure to tell them I untied you and you went home early with a migraine."
Isabella finally lost her temper. She thrashed about, yelling into her gag, glaring daggers at Mrs. Calder. Her cheeks were a deep red again, this time from her exertions and pent up anger at being rendered helpless until someone rescued her.
Mrs. Calder laughed, "If the janitor doesn't find you, I am sure the night watchman will." She turned to leave, "Oh and Isabella?"
Isabella glanced Mrs. Calder's way.
"Your students did not get that A+ honestly. I gave them the answers. I have been here a long time, and I usually can predict the outcome of most situations. You are not the first teacher to get tied up," Mrs. Calder said, then made a quick exit.
Isabella didn't even hear her go. She could not believe what she just heard. Giving the students the answers so she would get tied up? Isabella's eyebrows came together in a vicious frown as her brown eyes narrowed, wait 'till she told the school board about this doozy.
As soon as she got out of this chair, that is.