In the first year of high school, there was a chemistry teacher whose lectures were particularly rubbish. It is said that her husband is the deputy director of the Education Bureau, so although everyone knows that her lectures are poor, no one dares to make any moves. In the next semester of senior three, this teacher stopped taking our class because of poor health and changed to a young and interesting female teacher. I'm so happy that I finally understand the chemistry class. Since then, my grades have really improved. However, it didn't last long, probably when I was a sophomore. The young teacher came to tell us one day that her former teacher was coming back and she wouldn't take us. I am actually a student with a low sense of existence. At that time, our English teacher knew almost everyone in the class, but never knew me, although I got the highest score in English tests several times. So I don't know much about other teachers, and I don't know much about them, but after school that day, I called my mother at the school gate and began to cry. How long did I cry until my mother picked me up and I went home and went to bed at night? Really, so desperate.