Don't own.

Monday soon came and fear filled me. I tried every excuse I could think of to get out of going but nothing worked. My mom sent me to school

English rolled around faster then I wanted. The whole period Mr. Robinson would not stop looking at me. It was as though he was undressing me with his eyes. Even though I had a hoodie on over my clothes, I still felt completely exposed.

"Ms. McDonald, would you please stay after so we can discuss your lack of paying attention?"

My stomach dropped. He knew that I was paying attention.

After everyone was filing out of the room, I hesitatingly walked up to him.

"Detention." He said without looking back from what he was writing on the board. "Served in my room. Don't be late."

I felt like I was going to throw up. Slowly, I made my way out into the hall and toward lunch. Through the whole lunch period, I sat at the table staring at my food. A plan started to formulate in my mind.

Mr. Robinson gave me a detention so he could get me alone after school. He got me alone so he could…yeah. From what I had seen, he had done this to many other girls. He needed to be stopped. Mr. Robinson kept a record of them. Everyone had a picture taken, which he put in that binder. He hadn't taken a picture of me yet so he still wasn't done. But I wasn't sure if I could take much more of that. I needed to get that book as evidence and stop him immediately.

After school, I walked as slow as I could to his room. When I got there, I noticed the binder sitting on his desk closed.

"Ah…Ms. McDonald. Time to serve your detention."

I dropped my bag to the ground and squeezed my eyes shut as he came over. He stroked my cheek and ran his hands over my breasts. His body pressed to mine and I could feel his erection growing. Suddenly he spun me and pinned me to the wall. I tried my best not to scream when he viciously entered me but tears did start leaking from the corners of my eyes. Pain shot through every limb and every nerve.

When he started pounding in and out, an involuntary shriek passed my lips but was cut off by his fist colliding with my stomach. It wasn't very hard but it got the point across.

When he was done, he dropped me to the ground. I pathetically tried to regain some dignity by straightening out my clothes. My Robinson did the perfectly impossible thing and disappeared into the back room leaving the binder unguarded.

Quickly I grabbed the binder. My heart sped up and I tried not to think about what would happen if he caught me. I shoved the binder in my tan messenger bag and slipped out of the classroom. I took off to the left. I walked as fast as I could without it seeming suspicious. As soon as I got out the front doors of the school, I sprinted.

There were some woods near the school. They were probably my best bet. The path through the woods went on for about a mile before it intersected the main road. After about half-a-mile into it, I finally slowed down to a walk. My lungs were on fire and my heart was in hyper-speed.

Eventually my breathing and heart rate slowed to a reasonable pace. I still felt like I was going to puke though. As I was walking, I reached into my bag and pulled the incriminating binder out.

I started thumbing through the pictures to see if I recognized anyone else. Only three I actually knew. The senior in the front, Angel Harman, a sophomore who lived down the street from me and the last one caught me off guard.

I knew Mr. Robinson was old. He looked to be about forty-five or so. But I didn't know he had been teaching high school for over twenty years. The last picture I saw was with a caption that said "My First" was at least twenty years old.

Though the girl was, only a teenager in the picture I recognized her immediately. I had her figure and hair color. My mother was lying naked over what seemed to be his desk. She looked just as broken and distant as I felt.

Around her neck hung the necklace my grandfather gave to my grandmother when they were both just fifteen years old. Grandma wore it till the day she died. My mother inherited it after that and gave it to me on my fifteenth birthday. I would someday give it to my daughter. My hand flew to my neck and I grasped the small gold heart.

I didn't even notice when I stepped out of the woods till I felt the asphalt beneath my feet. I placed the binder back in my bag and continued down the road.

About ten minutes later, I heard a car coming my way. The shrill of the horn came from behind me and fear struck my throat. My muscles tensed ready to run whenever I needed to.

How do you think the story is coming? Really getting on a roll isn't it? And we're not even close to the end. Or even close to the half way mark. Nor the quarter either.

Review please. Flames welcome.