My school has a frightening head teacher. No one is bad at my school because of him. One day, he wasn't there any more. It was all my fault. But I can't celebrate because if what I sacrificed.

He had this cane, sharp at the end like a spear, that he used to wack people with when they were bad. Everyone was terrified of it so much that he got bored sometimes, and would make kids be bad just to hit them with it. I was one of those people.

He was in a very bad mood with someone at home. He was angry and wanted to take it out on one of us kids. He chose me.

I stood on the stage in front of everyone on this tiny school who hadn't been injured in the past year (not a lot), plotting a plan in my head. I held out my hand for him to wack it, and just as it was about to hit my hand, I dodged it. Smart move? Probably not, but it was worth a shot.

The head master looked like he was about to explode. His face had gone red, his eyes dark. Oh no. "Looks like I drew the short straw here Harry." His voice was soft, yet it screamed danger. I knew a tiger when I saw one. "Or was that really you?" He began to bring it down onto my head, and I knew that could end in disaster. I wasn't stupid.

I reached up and grabbed it before it went any further and tried to pull it from his grasp. I had I good grip on it, and was able to yank it from his hands and get it into a good position for what I was planning to do, sharp end pointing towards his chest. "No, Mr Ravenwood. That was you." I pushed the spear into his chest until it stuck out the other end, then I let him fall onto it, pushing it even further. Blood poured from his heart, his eyes rolled back into his head, and he was gone. No more teachers and a school to ourselves? Fabulous!

***

That night, I woke up to see a faded image of the head master leaning over me. The spear was in his hand. It was pointing towards me this time. The last words he said to me echo round my head even now, haunting my nightmares, terrorising my every move. The last words he said to me before he plunged the cane into my heart make me shiver as I write this:

"Never mess with a Ravenwood."