When I was standard 4 in Desa Jaya. I always heard rumors and gossip about a certain teacher. This year, kids said to take any teacher except Mrs. Xie, my chinese teacher. Of course in elementary, we did not have a choice of which teacher to choose. Boy, I was shocked when I glanced at the window that had my schedule. Just by looking at that plain white piece of paper sticking on a safety-glass window, I knew it was going to be a bad year. The old, grouchy, strict, and mean Mrs. Xie would be my teacher. No problems, all I need to do is stand in front of the class and speak memorized parts. Of course, I never finish my homework. The shyness that accompanied me my whole life did not help me much either. I simply did my homework in standard 4 and 5; thus, it could not be that bad. Even if I do blush like a cherry and turn red like after eating Atomic Fireballs, my schoolwork were displayed to classmates I see everyday. As usual, nothing could go wrong.
That's what I thought. The season changed with cold rains and blistering chills to blooming flowers and emerging birds. It was spring, and the school year would be over soon.
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