What Did I Do? — a short story for English reading and speaking

In this stage, the story is read aloud by the students. Each student should read a short section in turn. After each section, pause to check comprehension and ask simple follow-up questions to ensure understanding.

The police entered the classroom and called out for her by name.

“Sarah Dawson? Come with us, please. We have some questions to ask you.”

The teacher stared at Sarah, wide-eyed.

“Sarah?” she whispered.

The rest of the class, delighted by the drama, gasped and jeered.

“Ooooh, Sarah, you’re in trouble now,” one girl sang, and the room filled with cruel laughter.

Sarah’s jaw dropped. She could hardly move, but somehow she stood and shuffled to the front. One of the officers placed a hand on her shoulder and gently ushered her out.

“What’s this about? I haven’t done anything,” Sarah said, her voice trembling.

“We’ll explain,” the officer replied.

At the end of the corridor stood Mrs Gladwell, the headteacher, her face even sterner than usual.

“Sarah, these officers would like to speak to you,” she said. Then, to the officers: “Use my office. Take your time.”

Inside, one officer sat behind the desk while Sarah and the other took chairs in front.

The officer folded his hands. “Sarah, do you know why we’re here?”

She shook her head, her throat dry.

He tapped his phone, then turned the screen towards her. The video showed a supermarket aisle. There she was — Sarah — pulling a tin from the shelf, glancing around, and slipping it under her jacket. Moments later, the footage cut to her running out of the shop.

Her mouth fell open.

“I don’t… I don’t remember doing that,” she stammered.

The officer leaned forward, his tone firm. “Sarah, we need you to think carefully. This video shows you taking something. Are you saying that isn’t you?”

Sarah looked at the floor, shaking her head. “It’s me. But it wasn’t like that.”

“Then explain,” the second officer said.

Tears pricked her eyes. “It was a dare. My friends told me to. They said everyone was doing it for a challenge online. You just take something small, film it, and post it. They said it was funny.”

The officer behind the desk raised his eyebrows. “A dare?”

Sarah nodded miserably. “I didn’t even want to do it. But they wouldn’t leave me alone. They said I was boring, that I’d chicken out.”

There was a long silence.

The officer finally said, “Sarah, even if it was a prank, stealing is still a crime. Posting it online makes it worse. We’ll be in touch. For now, you I think you should go back to class.”

Walking back into the classroom was worse than the interview. Every head turned.

“Thief.”

“Shoplifter.”

“Arrested!”

She kept her eyes on the floor as she made her way to her seat. But then a voice rang out, louder than the rest.

It was Chloe Madsen — Sarah’s nemesis since Year Seven.

“Enjoy your time in prison, Dawson,” Chloe sneered. “Maybe they’ll let you steal some soap.”

Laughter erupted around the room. Sarah’s cheeks burned. She spun round.

“Shut it, Madsen. You don’t know anything!”

“Oh, I know enough,” Chloe shot back. “Everyone does now.”

Before Sarah could reply, the teacher’s voice cut through the noise.

“Enough! Both of you. Sit down and be quiet.”

Sarah sat, fists clenched under the desk, but Chloe’s smirk lingered. Their eyes met — a silent promise that this wasn’t over.

By break time, Sarah felt hollow. She pulled out her phone, hoping for distraction.

And froze.

The video.

The supermarket clip was everywhere. Edited, shared, reposted. The caption read:

“Local teen caught shoplifting challenge. #CriminalSarah #ShopliftChallenge”

Hundreds of comments scrolled past:

“OMG she’s in my school 😂”

“She’s done for.”

“Stealing for likes—pathetic.”

“She’ll never live this down.”

Her stomach turned. She shoved the phone back into her pocket, but laughter echoed across the playground. Chloe caught her eye and mimed pulling something under her jacket. The crowd around her roared with laughter.

Sarah’s legs felt weak. She wanted to disappear.

By the time she got home, she was numb. She put her key in the door, but before she could turn it, the door yanked open.

Her mother stood there, red-faced.

“Sarah, how could you be so stupid? What were you thinking?”

Sarah tried to answer but no words came. She trudged upstairs, shut her bedroom door, and collapsed on the bed.

Her phone buzzed again and again. With shaking hands, she opened it. The video had already been reposted thousands of times, the comments piling up faster than she could read.

Tears streamed down her face. She wanted to scream, to make it all stop. But the video was out there now. Out of her control.

And going viral.