By RK (18 years old)
It was getting well past midnight and I was still working on the tons of exercises which the English teacher, Mr. Lee aka Mr. Loathsome had assigned. Fearful of the fierceness of his wrath should I fail to complete the assignments, I continued to burn the midnight oil. My eyelids were as heavy as lead and I looked longingly at my cozy bed, but resisted the temptation to stretch out on it.
Everyone else was in deep slumber by now and oh, how I longed to be in the same blessed state. Willing myself to finish my assignment, I rubbed my heavy eyelids and tried to concentrate. However, I soon nodded off – so much for good intentions.
“Ring … ring … ring …” Abruptly awakened by the obnoxious alarm, I looked blearily at the time. It was only 6 a.m. “Ample time for another 15 minutes of snooze,” I muttered to myself sleepily and moved to the bed, hoping to get rid of the kinks that had developed after a night of resting my head on the study table and my butt on the wooden chair.
“Gaga! Wake up! You’re going to be awfully late!” I felt a small hand on my shoulder, trying to shake me awake. It was my 4-year-old sister. I jolted up from the bed and hurriedly put on my school uniform. Grabbing my schoolbag, I dashed out of the house on an empty stomach.
Knowing I was hopelessly late, I ran all the way to school. True enough, by the time I arrived all flustered and sweaty, the class was well into the first period. With a fierce scowl pasted on his podgy face, Mr. Loathsome snarled, “Miss Gaga, do you know how to tell the time?” “Yeah, sarcasm truly becomes you!” I seethed silently.
You could say Mr. Loathsome and I rubbed along in mutual loathing. “And where is your homework?” the hateful man thundered. I fumbled in my bag for the wretched English workbook but to my disgust, it was not where it was supposed to be. Refusing to be cowed, I turned bravely to the horrible man and muttered, “I left it at home.”
Mr. Loathsome stared silently at me for a full minute. The class went into auto silent mode whereby you could hear a pin drop. Next to me, my best friend Nana whispered, “Oh-oh, classroom peace is about to disrupt.” Sure enough, Mr. Loathsome famed for his notorious volatile temperament, roared, “Excuses, excuses, excuses! I am fed up with your stupid excuses! Get out of my sight this instant!”
“Nasty, nasty man! Downright nasty man!” I fumed quietly. With a mutinous look, I strode furiously to the door. I could feel the burning gaze of 45 pairs of sympathetic eyes upon my back. A torrent of the most livid adjectives to gleefully describe Mr. Loathsome flooded through my mind, “Horrid, dreadful, awful, odious, detestable, disgusting, insufferable, totally tiresome and the most unreasonable teacher I have the misfortune to meet! Yep, he is all that and then some!”