This story is a couple of years old, but here goes:
BG: I was bullied a lot in school. A middle school teacher of mine - let's call her Umbridge - was complicit in and joined in the bullying, and her treatment of me was partially the set - off for my deep depression. After my eighth grade year, she was moved around to several schools, but I didn't keep track of her whereabouts (I only knew because I saw her at several elementary schools when the orchestra visited). /end BG.
I was taking an elective literature class my senior year of high school. On the first day of the semester, I walked into the room before class was due to start, and I saw...Umbridge. A teacher who was one of my biggest bullies was sitting there at the teacher's desk doing work. The classroom was empty but for we two. I think I froze for a bit - I was too in shock to say anything - but I managed to sit down in a desk that faced away from her so I could collect myself. I was panicking, thinking that the schedule had been changed, and now I would have to refuse to take this class, because there was no way I was going to put myself through another minute of having that woman as my teacher.
Suddenly, other kids came in, and so did the teacher who was scheduled to teach the class. Apparently, Umbridge had been teaching a class scheduled in that room before my class and was just finishing up some paperwork. I secretly breathed a sigh of relief...until Umbridge was leaving and walked past me. She gripped my shoulder and said to my teacher, "And this one is really good at writing, aren't you?...aren't you?" My hands started to shake, and every evil thing I'd thought about her came into my mind, but I knew it wouldn't look good to bawl out a teacher, especially in front of a bunch of people who didn't know me or my history with this teacher. So all I did was clench my jaw and nod.
It may not have been cathartic, but at least I came out smelling like roses and not Dungbombs.