Run and hide in the cupboard

From Create Your Own Story

The rhythmic pounding in your chest matches the frantic pace of your footsteps as you dart toward the storage cupboard at the rear of the office. Your palms slick with sweat, you wrench the door open and squeeze inside—shoulders scraping against the tight confines. Towering shelves press in from all sides, crammed with sagging binders and yellowed paperwork that smells faintly of dust and mildew. The door resists when you pull it shut, leaving a sliver of light slicing through the darkness. Not enough.

Through the gap, polished dress shoes click against linoleum. Principal Lunt strides in, his perpetual scowl carving deeper lines into his fifty-something face. Greying temples frame the tight set of his jaw, where stubble glints silver under fluorescent lights. Beside him, Mrs. Valentine moves with the quiet precision of someone used to being overlooked—strawberry-blonde hair swaying as she adjusts the collar of her blouse.

Something's off. The way his knuckles whiten around a manila folder. How her fingers linger near his wrist when she takes it.

Then—movement. A brutal yank sends her crashing against him. His mouth crashes down on hers. Her manicured nails dig into his shoulders as she arches into it. His tie slithers to the floor. Buttons pop. Fabric rips.

"Fucking slut," he growls into the curve of her neck, fist twisted in her hair.

Her laugh is throaty, delighted. "Oh yes, I am, and all yours ."

The desk creaks under their combined weight. Her black lace bra gleams against skin as pale as porcelain .Some distant part of you registers the wedding bands glinting in the overhead lights.

Closer. You lean closer. The doorknob digs into your hip. Do you.

try not to watch what is going on

Or grab your phone and record this and use the video as blackmail