I don't know where these 700 words came from but they are scary as heck at some point. It was just supposed to have the line "Well, if you want me to have a full blown panic attack and kill someone then yes. Who knows, I might just get to you." in it. Whoops...
"Restocking the janitor's closet," Harris finished.
Isaac glanced up at the teacher with a pale face, lowering his voice to a soft hiss. "Do I have to be with her?"
Smiling cruelly, Harris replied. "Well, now that I know you'd prefer not to? Yes, you have to be with her." The slick-haired teacher appeared to take great joy in Isaac's discomfort despite having knowledge of both Isaac's history with his father and Isaac's friendship with Allison's ex-boyfriend.
An irritated and confused frown adorning Isaac's face, the tall boy glanced back at Allison with a weak smile. His eyes flash golden for a second. "You know, sir," he begins as he turns back to face the teacher, "I'm perfectly fine with working with Allison... but the idea of a closet really won't do me any good." His voice was quiet and conniving as he gazed at the teacher with large, innocent eyes.
"Does working in a closet kill you? No. You're doing the closet, Mr. Lahey." Harris' challenging expression only egged Isaac on.
He tilted his chin back, pretending to consider the idea. "I don't know about killing me but it might kill someone else," he offered. "If you want me to have a full-blown panic attack when the door to that room slams-" he added extra emphasis to the word, slamming one fist into the other palm "-shut I just might have a small problem. You know, just a little panic attack where I'll knock something over and pass out." He raised a hand in a fist, ignoring the gazes plastered to his back from the five other detainees. "Although, that depends on your definition of little." Isaac extended his fingers to examine them. "I define little as a small item or something lacking seriousness." Chocolate eyes glanced up, innocent no longer. "How do you define little?"
Harris just smiled cruelly once again. "Small in size, amount or degree." His voice was sure and cold.
"Then I think we have a problem, Mr. Harris. You see, I thought your definition of little was quite a bit different, more akin to the definition of, say, large." Isaac gazed down at his firm fist. "By 'little panic attack', I think I meant something more along the lines of... 'catastrophic panic attack'. Any enclosed room can set me off, even a class room when empty enough or unusually small. And the janitor's closet? It's much smaller than a little classroom. And the marks on the walls... Quite akin to the inside of an old freezer, no sir? And who knows if I'll here Allison's voice when that door slams shut." He glanced up again. "Or maybe a certain coach by the last name of Lahey. And when I hear his 'fatherly'-" air quotes surrounded the word "-voice who knows what I'll do?" Isaac extended his fingers, placing them on the table to slide them towards himself. "Start screaming and crying in the panic or fall into shock in a corner. Based on personal experience," his nails screeched along the tabletop, "I find something more violent far likelier. Maybe I'll start on the door and try to tear it to shreds, banging-" his fist slammed to the table "-against it. Or maybe I'll start tearing things from shelves, trying to find a secret passage to get me out. Or maybe I'll blame Allison in my panic, imagining my father having locked me within that freezer. Maybe I'll try to rip her to shreds." His eyes raised to rest on the teacher. "And then when I get out and finally calm from my panic I can't say there won't be blood and I can't say that some will be mine, and some Allison's." He tapped a finger to his lips. "But of course, I could be wrong. Maybe It won't just be Allison's blood and my blood when I relax, maybe it'll be mine, Allison's and every other living thing with a heartbeat I can get my hands on. Who knows, I might even make it to you."
