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Her grip was tight. too tight. Something was obviously wrong. She rushed down the hall, holding me close to her books. We entered her first period classroom. She slammed her books down on the desk and took me over to the pencil sharpener. this was my least favorite part of the day. The sharpened grinder agains my sides, bringing my head to a point. She blew the hot shavings off of me and rushed back to her desk. I had made many marks on that desk. She usually threw me around a lot but today was different. Instead of setting me down, she kept me in her hand. Her hand was becomming sweaty, like she was nervous for some reason. I was starting to slowly slide out of her hand.