Get Her Arrested

Get Her Arrested
Susan tries to push herself up. Her fingers claw at the tile. Blood blooms on her lip from the earlier slap. Her breath comes in little broken pulls. She reaches for the chair; her hand trembles. The world tilts.

Her vision blurs at the edges. The sounds — once sharp — begin to smear. Footsteps echo far away. Her head feels heavy, like a stone. She tries to think, to scream, to do anything — but her body has nothing left. Her cheek presses against cold tile. Her tears trail into the grout.

Maggie’s silhouette grows small as she disappears down the corridor. The last thing Susan hears, dim and ridiculous, is the soft clack of those heels fading.

Then the light goes.

\----------

'BACK TO A YEAR AGO'

Susan sat at her desk in the front-right corner of the classroom, dressed in a blue T-shirt and fitted black trousers that shaped her curves neatly. The afternoon sun slipped through the open windows, casting warm patches of light across the desks of her grade two students. The quiet hum of children working on their drawings filled the room.

Her phone was in her hand. She scrolled through apartment listings with a frown creasing her forehead, her thumb moving slowly on the screen.

She whispered to herself, “I just need a small place… something affordable. Anywhere but with katy.”

Her chest tightened as she thought of her current roommate, Katy— the same Katy who had tried to hurt her twice in just one month. The thought made her fingers tremble slightly as she scrolled.

Then, one picture caught her attention.
Her eyes widened. “Oh, this is available,” she said softly to herself, leaning closer. “This will definitely do.”

Her excitement faded the moment she saw the price tag.
“Fifteen hundred dollars per month?” she whispered, her face twisting. “I don’t have that much.”

She ran her fingers through her hair, thinking. “But it’s perfect. It’s close to school and not too far from here. If I really have to move out from Katy’s place, this is where I should move into. But the price…” she sighed.

Then another thought came. “Maybe I can ask for a refund from the rent I just renewed,” she muttered, tilting her head. “Nine hundred dollars. Even if I can get five hundred back, I can manage to find the rest.”

Her lips curved into a faint, hopeful smile. “This might actually work.”

She started typing a message on her phone, her fingers moving quickly across the screen. But before she could finish, a small hand waving from one of the desks caught her attention.

She lifted her eyes. It was Peter, a little boy with messy hair and curious eyes.
“What is it, Peter?” she asked gently, setting her phone down.

“I want to pee,” Peter said, his voice small and innocent.

Susan smiled. “You can go, Pete,” she said kindly. Then she looked around. “Anyone else needs to pee?”

Two other little hands went up.

“You can all go,” she said with a warm smile. “But don’t take long.”

The three kids stood from their desks, their tiny feet pattering softly on the floor as they hurried out of the class. Susan’s eyes followed them until the door closed behind them.

Then she picked up her phone again and continued typing where she stopped.
Her lips moved slightly as she whispered the message to herself while reading it aloud:

“Hello Mr. Anderson, this is Susan Stone, Katy’s roommate. I’d like to ask for a refund for this month’s rent. I’ve decided to move out. I’ve only stayed two days into this month’s payment, so it’s only fair I get a refund, even if not all of it. Thank you.”

She nodded, satisfied with the message, then placed her phone back on the desk.

A minute passed. Then two.
Her phone suddenly buzzed. Her heart jumped—only to sink again when she saw it was just an app notification.

She sighed. “Of course…” she muttered, brushing it off.

Moments later, the classroom door opened. Peter and the other two students returned, giggling quietly as they went back to their seats. Susan smiled faintly, her mind still on the refund message.

An hour passed. Then two. Then three. No reply from Mr. Anderson. Each time her phone vibrated, her heart skipped, hoping it was him— only to be disappointed again and again. App notifications. Emails. Nothing from the landlord.

When the closing bell finally rang, the classroom burst into sound.
Chairs screeched, laughter echoed, and the air filled with the sweet chaos of children packing their bags and racing for the door.

“Bye, Miss Stone!” a few of them called out.

“Bye, kids,” she said, waving, her smile returning for them.

In fifteen minutes, the classroom was empty again. She gathered her things, slung her bag over her shoulder, and stepped out into the corridor. The hum of chatter from other classrooms faded behind her as she shut the door.

From the far end of the hallway, a familiar voice called out, “Hey girl!”

Susan looked up. It was Vivian, another teacher, walking toward her in a white T-shirt and fitted black skirt.

“Hey, Vivian,” Susan said, smiling.

“How’s your body? Feeling better now?” Vivian asked, stopping in front of her, her smile bright and warm.

Susan frowned slightly. “My body?” she repeated, confused.

Vivian chuckled softly. “You called me yesterday,” she said. “Told me you were sick and couldn’t make it to work. Or did you forget?”

Susan’s eyes widened a little, then she gave a small, embarrassed laugh. “Ohh… right. I’m fine now.”

Vivian raised a brow. “You sure? Or did you lie about being sick?”

Susan sighed, the truth slipping out. “Okay, yes… I lied,” she admitted, lowering her gaze. “But I had a good reason for not coming yesterday.”

Vivian tilted her head. “And what’s that?”

Susan looked around to make sure no one was close, then said quietly, “I got attacked by my roommate. It was bad. I had to stay home. I even have a bruise on my face— I covered it with makeup—and one on my elbow.”

She rolled her sleeve up to show Vivian the dark bruise.

“God,” Vivian breathed out, her face twisting in disbelief. “You should report her. Get her arrested.”