A/N
This story is a short sarcastic story that humorously (hopefully) points out cliches in teen fictions on Wattpad. This is not to make fun of anybody's work, if it were I would be making fun of my own because I write cliches. This is just a book I wrote to hopefully make you laugh or at least smile. It is not my most beautifully written piece of art, but hopefully it will at least make you laugh. Now with that being said let's get to the story shall we!  I will edit this all as soon as I complete the short story so I am sorry for the grammar mistakes you will find.

  ~ My Cold-hearted Teacher ~

I stared at my pitiful self in the reflection that was glistening in the muddy puddle on the sidewalk. I usually stopped to stare at myself a lot. I was so ugly but I liked to look at myself anyways to tear down my confidence level.

It always works.

I gaped at the shady dark rings under my eyes, messy unbrushed knotted blonde hair ( that I hadn't brushed in two weeks) pale wrinkled skin, and my pink chapped lips - It was hideous. How do I look so horrible?
I bathe three to four times in every chapter, I never brush my hair, I always change my outfit, I brush my teeth about every four chapters, I always apply skin damaging lipstick on every page, and I never moisturize my skin.

How is it possible that I look so hideous? The only positive thing is that I smell good from the multiple showers and baths that I take.

I am such a slacker when it comes to hygiene and make-up. My lack of beauty product use immediately makes me classified as an ugly, hideous, disgusting person.

That's why nobody likes me. I have a total of 345 friends. It's like nobody wants to be my friend or talk to me.
No one cares about me. Not even the girl that calls herself my best friend.
Even though we all know that's a lie.

She has told me before that she loved me so much she would die for me.
I blocked her from my contacts. Just in case she was one of those friends that turn on you, embarrass you in school, steal your boyfriend, kiss the president, spit on puppies, take my house. You know that kind of stuff.

Why did I care? Excluding her, I had like 344 people left in my friend list. I am such an outcast. The whole school is against me.

I thought of this as I walked to school. Besides the fact that I had a brand new golden Lamborghini Aventador in my garage, and a dad who is an uber driver, I still walked to school due to no source of transportation. It saves me the embarrassment of showing up to school in my car anyways.

I had reached my school. Still alive, breathing normal, my deodorant not giving out yet, and late by one minute, despite the fact that I had just walked ten miles and possibly lossed twenty pounds.

Why am I so fat and unhealthy? I swear I am the absolute laziest person on this planet.

I go to my class and sit down. Everyone basically chants my name as I walk down the hallways.

"Loseria! Loseria! Loseria!!!!" I hear them chant excitedly, but I avert eye contact. Since that is what all of the unpopular, shy kids do.

When I reached my class, immediately the whole room erupts in applause. Roses fly towards me in bouquets. I see students making hearts with their hands, crying tears of joy.

"We love you, Loseria!"

Kids whistle, boys stomp their feet on excitement. One kid ran up to me and asked for my autograph, but I refused. How dare the whole class to ridicule me like this? The nerve of these popular kids!

Disgusted by their actions, I sat down in my chair, next to the one and only Popularsumaya.
Everyone calls her 'Sum' for short.

Ugh! How dare she to flip her coconut scented, blonde hair in my direction. All while offering me a bright white smile that was sure to pass the toilet paper test.

"Hey, Loseria!" She greeted with a tired yawn. "Can you do my school work for me? I stayed up too late and now I can't focus." With that she fell asleep.

"Why can't I be like you?" I whispered as I grabbed her notebook to take notes. "Always on time, always doing your school work, you never procrastinate." She is such a hardworking person. Her grades average from a D- to a F. I wish I had her intelligence and her ability to study without the help of others or pushing schoolwork to the side.

I am always failing with my grades. I average an A+ 100 on every exam, test, quiz. You name it.  I wish I could make at least one good grade. Just so I can prove to everyone, that I can make it into one of the 123 colleges I was accepted in.

I was disrupted from my thoughts when my teacher stepped into the room. His name is Mr. Educatedson, and he is so boring and mean. He will call you out for nothing, and ask how your day was. That is the meanest thing anyone can do because it is a trick question and it is putting you on the spot. Something no other teacher does but him. My high school experience is now ruined, because I  have the most aggressive, irritable, hot-headed teacher in the world.

Mr. Educatedson scribbled a flower on the board, while humming 'Amazing Grace'.

"Alright, class!" He chirped energetically, turning to the classroom filled with amused and focused students. Every time a word flew put of his mouth, each student applauded. with such a large amount of appreciation for his speech.
All except for me because I am the shy, awkward one in this sitcom.

"Since I am the teacher in this story and I am the absolute worse; I decided
that today's lesson should be a five sentence dialogue, then we skip on to the next scene." He clapped his hands together with a smile.

Kids groaned and buried their faces in their hands.  The strenuous amount of work he had laid upon us was ridiculous. A five sentence dialogue then skipping onto the next scene?
Man, I hate my teacher. He is the absolute worst.

"I don't have a lot of room or time to talk since this is going to take the reader 5.3 seconds to read so we need to move on!" He hastily said, still wearing the largest smile a person could muster up.

Why is he so mean to us? It's unfair how he treats us so harshly.

I heard two girls talking in the middle of class loudly. Gossiping and giggling over an average teenage boy that was seated behind them. One of the girls, named, Nerdsilla, was sulking over how she couldn't date a guy like him. I saw what she meant by not being good enough.

Her hair was a gorgeous Auburn red, her emerald green eyes sparkled like diamonds, and her tall slender body that every girl dreamed of having, made me pity her.

They were literally talking over the teacher as he was speaking. And, of course, since he was a mean teacher and the girls were the main characters, for another teen fiction, they got away with their loud chatter.

The boy that was seated behind her tapped her on her shoulder, asking for her numbers. A blush formed on his prominent cheek bones, as he flipped his dark wavy hair to the side, obviously flirting.

I am always sad when I see poor souls rejected like that. It breaks my heart, and for once I am grateful that I am not a character in her story but one in mine.

  That is until, Mr. Educatedson called me out. He pointed at me, smiling that wide smile of his. "Since we have four sentences left to the dialogue! Hurry answer this question! What do you think of this flower I drew on the board, that has no meaning to the story whatsoever?"

"I think it looks junky."

"An immediate A+100 for you good job, Loseria!" He praised.

There I go again failing, yet, another thing in my life.

The bell suddenly and miraculously rang, saving me from this cold hearted beast of a teacher.

"Class dismissed. May you all have a good week." He hummed, gathering our empty pages from the lesson;
since we had talked the whole time and had not learned anything today.

School was too much torture for my brain.

The teacher had stopped me to rub it in my face that I was the most intelligent student ever. I knew at that moment, that I was never going to make it in life. How can I get into a college with an impossibly perfect GPA? My parents are going to be so ticked off with me when I give then the news.

I left class in a horrendous mood. All thanks to my evil teacher and his cold hearted ways of teaching.