So I stood dumbly, resolutely staring at the shiny silver buckles on my new school shoes, and waited for Ms Campbell to fill out what felt like my death warrant.
She tore the slip from the pad and handed it over, informing me that she expected a signed note from my mum and all the assigned writing exercises to be on her desk first thing the following morning. I nodded meekly. “Pardon?” demanded Ms Campbell, clearly dissatisfied with my non-verbal response. My mouth was so dry, and my voice felt so distant, but I managed to croak ‘yes, Ms Campbell’ before folding the incriminating piece of paper in half and slipping it into my new school bag.