The new semester had barely begun when the principal announced that all student guardians had to attend a school-wide classroom clean-up. I saw my chance and approached the principal privately to explain my situation. “Principal, my parents have very specialized jobs. They truly can’t make it.” To my surprise, the principal slammed his lesson plan down on his desk and roared at me, “Every other parent can make it, but yours are ‘special’? You wrote ‘confidential’ for their profession on the enrollment form, and now you’re making excuses for them not showing up? You don’t take me seriously at all!” He then laid down a harsh ultimatum: “If your parents don’t come, then we won’t keep you in this class!” I was utterly stunned. The regulations of their classified agency mean they can’t just go out in public! But when my parents actually showed up at the school, the principal’s attitude instantly changed. 1. Principal Vanderberg walked into the classroom, a grim look on his face, and slammed his lesson plan onto the podium. “For the new semester, I asked guardians to come to school for a clean-up. Only one student’s guardians didn’t show. What, is it embarrassing to sweep a floor at school? Or do you think your child’s grades are so good they don’t need to do ‘menial’ tasks?” His voice rose. “Let me tell you, in my class, the way guardians treat the school is how I treat their child.” Guardians coming to school for clean-up was supposed to be voluntary, but Principal Vanderberg was image-conscious. He felt the more guardians attended, the better it reflected on him as a principal, so he demanded all guardians must be present. “Lily Adams.” He called my name directly. I stood up. “What exactly do your parents do for a living? Street sweepers? Janitors? They must have some off-hours, right?” He asked, arms crossed. Someone snickered. “They…” I paused. “Their agency is… special. They can’t leave.” “What agency? Tell me about it.” “I can’t.” A brief silence fell over the classroom. Principal Vanderberg was furious. “Can’t say? Or are you embarrassed to say it?” “Starting the school year off with that passive-aggressive attitude, you think I can’t handle you?” I quickly explained, “Principal, I’m not. They truly can’t say…” Principal Vanderberg’s face was livid. He slammed his hand on the table. “I’ve been teaching for years, I’ve seen every kind of guardian! I’m calling your guardians right now! I’ll ask them myself! If they don’t tell me why they can’t come, you’ll stand for every class until graduation!” With that, the principal pulled out his phone and immediately dialed the number I had provided, deliberately putting it on speaker. From the phone’s speaker came a mechanical female voice: “Hello, the number you have dialed is not in service. Please check the number and dial again.” The classroom erupted in laughter. Principal Vanderberg hung up, his chest heaving. He felt mocked and humiliated by me. “Lily Adams.” He gritted his teeth. “You’re playing games with me?” “No, Principal, they truly are…” “Silence.” He pointed a finger at me. “Do you think I’m an idiot? You’ve been lying from start to finish. There’s no such thing as a ‘classified agency.’ You just didn’t want your parents to come. You’re deliberately defying me!” He grew angrier as he spoke, his face red. “Since your parents won’t come to school, then you don’t need to attend class. Get out now!” I explained again, “Principal, I already told you, my parents’ work is highly sensitive. Not just anyone can reach them.” Principal Vanderberg was trembling with rage. “Get out!” I sighed, resigned, and walked out into the corridor. Principal Vanderberg was notoriously petty. Once, a student merely misremembered the timetable and took out a textbook for another subject. Principal Vanderberg publicly berated him for an entire class. If I couldn’t resolve this, who knew how much trouble he’d cause me later. I pulled out my encrypted phone and sent a message to the group chat with my parents: [My principal, Mr. Vanderberg, has some misunderstandings about me because you couldn’t come for the clean-up. Can you explain to him?] A moment later, my mother replied, indicating understanding: [Understood. Situation reported. Someone will handle it.] 2. I stood in the corridor for a full class period, my legs aching. Finally, when the bell for the break rang, I went to the staff office to explain, but at the door, I overheard Principal Vanderberg’s voice. “That Lily Adams, she’s a rotten apple! Doesn’t show up for clean-up, her parents’ profession is ‘confidential,’ and her phone number is out of service! What kind of behavior is this? This is blatant deception of the school, deception of the teachers! Her family values are clearly problematic!” My heart sank. Another teacher spoke up. “No, that can’t be right? Maybe there’s a special reason? The child is usually very well-behaved.” Principal Vanderberg’s voice rose. “Well-behaved? I’ve seen plenty of students like her. What’s the use of good grades? If their character is flawed, they’ll just be a blight on society! Her parents are probably fugitives, that’s why she’s so secretive!” I couldn’t take it anymore. I kicked the door open. It might have been my fault for not explaining properly, but how dare he, as a principal, insult my parents? All the teachers’ gazes turned to me. I looked directly at Principal Vanderberg. “Mr. Vanderberg, you can question me, but you cannot slander my parents like this! You have no evidence, so how dare you say my parents are fugitives!” Principal Vanderberg’s face was livid. He pointed at me. “What kind of attitude is that? Eavesdropping on teachers, then barging in to talk back! Was I wrong? I think you lack proper upbringing!” “My upbringing teaches me to be truthful and to follow rules!” I met his gaze without flinching. “What I’m saying is the truth, and as for my parents’ profession, you have no right to know!” “You’re out of line!” Principal Vanderberg was trembling with rage. He grabbed his lesson plan book from the table and threw it at me, but I dodged it. He roared, “Get out! From now on, you’re out of my class!” I pressed my lips together and turned to leave. Behind me, Principal Vanderberg roared, “Look at that! What an attitude, incorrigible! I’ll definitely teach her a lesson!” Back in my classroom seat, three or five classmates huddled together, whispering, then all turned to look at me, then turned back to continue talking. “Principal said her parents are fugitives!” “We should stay away from her!” My hand, which was turning a page, froze. The class president stood up from his seat, clapped his hands. “Everyone, hand in your holiday assignments. Separate by subject, pass them up by group.” I lowered my head, rummaging through my bag, about to pass my holiday assignment to the student in front. Principal Vanderberg walked directly towards me. In front of the whole class, he took the stack of assignments from my hands, turned around, and tossed them into the trash bin. The classroom was dead silent. All the blood rushed to my head. “Principal Vanderberg!” “What?” He turned to me. “You’ve repeatedly challenged my authority. Since I can’t control you anyway, you don’t need to hand in your assignments anymore.” He took a stack of test papers from the podium and handed them to the class president. “These are this week’s practice sheets. Hand them out.” Principal Vanderberg glanced at me again. “Oh, and don’t give any to Lily Adams. I’ve confiscated her papers.” “Also, I’ve spoken with the other subject teachers. From now on, Lily Adams doesn’t need to hand in any assignments or test papers for any subject. It’ll be useless, we won’t accept them.” My body went cold. Just because my parents couldn’t come to school for clean-up? I was going to be treated like this? The class bell rang. Principal Vanderberg pointed to the corridor. “My class, you can get out!” I gritted my teeth, turned, and left the classroom, knocking on the head of student affairs’ office. 3. I recounted the entire incident to Dean Thompson. “Principal Vanderberg, because my parents couldn’t come to school for clean-up, called them fugitives and made the whole class aware. He also threw my assignments in the trash, saying he wouldn’t accept my work anymore, wouldn’t give me test papers. I want the Dean to judge this fairly.” Dean Thompson listened to my words, then remained silent for a moment. “Lily, dear,” his voice was serious. “I’ve heard what you said. I know Principal Vanderberg; he’s a bit hot-headed, but his intentions are good.” A kindly smile spread across his face. “How about this, in a little while, I’ll use the school intercom to speak on your behalf, and I’ll explain your parents’ situation to everyone, so the teachers and students don’t misunderstand. How does that sound?” My eyes welled up. “Thank you, Dean Thompson! Thank you!” “Go on, go on,” he waved his hand. I bowed deeply to him and left the office. Standing in the corridor, I let out a deep sigh of relief. The intercom would ring soon. Once this was resolved, I could go back to class and study like before. I stood outside the classroom, where Principal Vanderberg was teaching. The intercom crackled to life. I immediately stood up straight. “Attention all faculty and students.” Dean Thompson’s voice came through the speaker. “Here is an announcement.” I took a deep breath. “Regarding the disciplinary action against junior student Lily Adams.” “Upon investigation, it was found that the student provided false guardian information, defied her principal’s authority, and refused to cooperate with class duties. After multiple attempts by the principal to educate her, she showed no remorse, and today, during a break, she left class without permission and disrupted the teaching order. Her actions severely violate school rules and regulations, creating a negative impact.” “After deliberation by the grade committee, it has been decided to place student Lily Adams on school probation. All students are advised to take this as a warning, and respect their teachers. End of announcement.” I felt as if struck by lightning, my mind completely blank. Principal Vanderberg gave me a mocking smile from inside the classroom. I turned and ran, kicking open the Dean of Student Affairs’ office door. Dean Thompson was drinking tea. He frowned and shouted. “What’s wrong with you? Don’t you know to knock before entering?” “Why did you lie to me?” I gasped, my voice trembling. “Didn’t you promise to help me? Why did the announcement say I was being disciplined?” He stood up, enraged. “Lily Adams, let me tell you, don’t make trouble here. Your disciplinary action is final!” Principal Vanderberg stomped in. Her eyes were spitting fire. “Oh, Lily Adams, you dare to come looking for the Dean!” She took a few quick steps, and without a word, slapped me. My face burned, and I stumbled sideways. “You little brat!” Principal Vanderberg pointed at my nose and yelled, “Even if you go to the Headmaster, it won’t matter! I run this class! I’m telling you, you messed with the wrong person today!” “Cousin, calm down,” Dean Thompson said from the side. I clutched my face, staring at them in disbelief. No wonder Principal Vanderberg was so arrogant; Dean Thompson was backing her up. My phone vibrated. A message from my mother: [Daughter, we’ll be at your school in ten minutes.] Principal Vanderberg’s face darkened. She stepped forward and roughly knocked my phone out of my hand. “Still trying to call for help? Dream on! I’ll teach you a good lesson for your fugitive parents right now!” My fists clenched. All the blood rushed to my head, the pain on my cheek, the heat in my eyes, all mixed together into something indescribable. But my parents were arriving soon. Then, let’s see how arrogant she could be! I scoffed. “Mr. Vanderberg, are you really sure you want to do this?” 4. Principal Vanderberg scoffed, yelling, “Security! Now!” Two security guards ran in. Principal Vanderberg pointed at me, furious. “This student violated school rules and assaulted a teacher!” “Look at this slap mark on my face! She’s completely out of control. She needs a lesson!” I looked at Principal Vanderberg’s smooth face and laughed, exasperated. This was a complete inversion of the truth. The guards rushed forward, twisting my arms, one on each side, pinning me in place. I struggled, but two fists were no match for four hands. Principal Vanderberg stood before me, looking down. “If your parents won’t discipline you, then I’ll do it for them. I’ll teach you respect!” “Now, get on your knees and apologize!” I struggled, shouting, “I’m not wrong!” “I won’t kneel!” The guards’ grip was strong, pressing on my shoulders until they ached. I twisted my body, kicking at the ground. “Hold her down!” Dean Thompson yelled, and from behind, he kicked the back of my knee. My leg gave out, and I slammed to my knees on the floor. Principal Vanderberg squatted in front of me, holding her phone, the camera pointed at my face. “Come on, look up. Let everyone see what a student who hits a teacher looks like.” “Say, ‘My parents are fugitives.’” I bit my lip, staying silent. She stood up and handed her phone to one of the security guards. “Hold this. Get a clear shot.” The guard took the phone, the camera still on me. Principal Vanderberg circled behind me and kicked me in the back. I stumbled forward, bracing myself with my hands on the ground, my palms scraping against the floor, a burning pain. “Won’t say it?” Her voice came from above. “Fine. Let’s see how long you can hold out.” She bent down, grabbing a handful of my hair, yanking my face upward. My scalp screamed in pain, feeling like my hair was about to be ripped out. “Look at the camera. Admit your parents are fugitives. Say it.” Principal Vanderberg commanded. Tears streamed down my face from the pain, but I bit my lip and remained silent. My silence enraged Principal Vanderberg. She snatched the stun baton from the security guard’s belt. My blood ran cold. I fiercely demanded, “Principal Vanderberg! This is illegal! You are a disgrace to the teaching profession!” She pressed the stun baton to my shoulder, and I trembled with fear. “Scared now? Will you say it or not?” “Never! My parents are not fugitives.” My voice trembled, but each word was clear. “They protect this country. People like you don’t deserve to mention them.” Her face darkened, and she snapped, “You think you’re so tough!” With that, she moved to press the button. Just then, the classroom door was kicked open, and several figures appeared in the doorway. I cried out: “Mom, Dad, you’re finally here!”
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