I’ve always been known as the prettiest and most popular teacher at our school. Everyone admired me. But then, one of my students, a boy I tried really hard to help, tricked me. He drugged me, and while I was out of it, calling him “sweetie,” he put his hand under my shirt. Afterwards, he bragged about it and shared videos everywhere. “What’s so great about her? I slept with her, and she’s not special at all,” he said. My world crashed. No one looked up to me anymore. My husband left me, my family was ostracized, and I got fired from the school. The online bullying was too much, so I jumped from the school’s roof. But then a miracle happened. I woke up again on the exact day that boy was supposed to transfer into my class. Once again, I stood in front of my senior-year class, wearing my familiar Bohemian dress and white sandals, looking as graceful as ever. I was still that young, beautiful English teacher. A new student had just joined our class, and today was his first day. As he walked in, everyone looked at him curiously and started whispering. “Whoa, he’s so ugly! My expectations have just been crushed.” “I’m not being mean, but he makes me feel sick. Sorry, not sorry.” He walked in with a limp, his face covered in acne scars, and a big mole under his nose. “Hi everyone, I’m Rolf Wagner. ” At that moment, he shyly greeted the class, his gaze fixed on me. I stopped breathing for a second. Rolf Wagner — no matter how many times I die, I’ll never forget that name. Hatred surged within me. In my previous life, I pitied him for his poor background, stood up to bullies for him, bought him new clothes, and taught him life lessons. But on a stormy night, Rolf Wagner followed me home. I let him in to avoid the rain, but he secretly drugged my drink. While I rested on the couch, calling my husband’s name in a daze, he trembled as he unbuttoned my shirt. I passed out completely, helpless. The next day, I woke up covered in bruises and marks. Panicking, I immediately called the police, but he was nowhere to be found. During the days he disappeared, I was constantly on edge. Then, I saw the explicit video that was spreading like wildfire in every group chat, captioned: “What’s the big deal about her? I’ve had her, and she’s nothing special.” The woman in the video being humiliated was me, sobbing helplessly, begging for mercy. The internet exploded with rumors, because once, my candid photos had gone viral, and I had been dubbed by netizens as the “Dream Girl” and “First Love Face.” #DreamGirlTeacherFakesDrunkennessToSeduceStudent# He didn’t come forward to admit what he did. Instead, he hid in the shadows and sent me a creepy anonymous text: “Mrs. Gregory, now you and I are both in the mud. Be with me, I’ll treat you well.” Ultimately, unable to withstand the online bullying, I jumped off the school’s rooftop in despair. At that time, I was already three months pregnant. From being praised by everyone as their ideal to falling from grace, I found myself in a hopeless abyss. But now, as I once again stand in front of the classroom, looking down at the students below. The gears of fate start turning. This is my chance to redeem myself.
He gave me a shy smile, and when our eyes met, a shiver ran down my spine. I tried to stay calm. After all, I had a second chance, and he had no idea about it. I could still stop everything from happening. “We have a new student today. Who wants to sit next to him?” I announced. Since he started school late, he was older than the rest of us, already twenty, and he wasn’t what you’d call good-looking. The classroom fell silent—nobody wanted to pair up with him. Just then, the top student in our class raised her hand. “Mrs. Gregory, I’ll sit next to him.” Her kind face reminded me so much of my past life. I replied coldly, “I’ve heard that Wagner is struggling academically. I wouldn’t want him to hold you back. Let’s have him sit by himself in the last row.” There were plenty of empty seats where he could sit with someone, but I chose the harshest way possible. He seemed puzzled, as if he couldn’t believe my indifferent attitude and how I was deliberately making things hard for him. Rolf Wagner muttered to himself, “Why she treated me like this…” Every word he said sent chills down my spine. After class, I bolted back to my office, my back soaked with cold sweat. I gulped down some hot coffee but didn’t even feel the heat. My mind was racing. Should I quit and leave now? I had worked so hard to get this job. Why should I give it all up because of him? I sat there, dazed, until it was time to go home. My husband, Albert Gregory, was waiting in the car at the school gate for half an hour. When he saw me coming down, he hurriedly got out and pulled me into his arms. “You seem really upset. What happened?” he asked. Smelling his warm, familiar scent, I couldn’t hold back my tears any longer. Albert and I had a great relationship. In my previous life, he divorced me to protect me from online bullying, moving with me to another city under new identities. When he saw how much I was suffering, he even took a knife to confront Rolf Wagner, but Rolf turned the tables on him, leaving him dead in a pool of blood. Looking at Albert’s handsome face, I wiped away my tears and forced a smile. “It’s nothing, just feeling a bit unwell. Let’s go home.” Albert was still worried, insisting on taking me to the hospital for a check-up. An hour later, the blood test results were in. I was pregnant. Albert, over the moon, lifted me and spun me around. “Honey, this is amazing! We’re going to have a baby!” “If it’s a girl, she’ll be as beautiful and cute as you,” he said. I laughed through my tears, silently vowing to protect this hard-earned happiness. The next day, I went to class as usual, using a microphone because my voice was hoarse. The loudspeaker drowned out all my chaotic thoughts. I didn’t look towards that corner of the room, focusing solely on teaching. A few days passed peacefully, until Thursday afternoon. After my last class, I was heading back to the office when several female students blocked my way. They were supporting Rolf Wagner, who smelled like the bathroom and was covered in injuries. His limp was worse than ever. I knew his pitiful demeanor was just a facade. He was strong enough to fight back but never did, silently enduring the bullying from a few troublemakers. His nails were long and dirty, and his left hand was bloody, with a chunk of skin missing. “Mrs. Gregory! Rolf got bullied, and his finger’s skin was ripped off. What should we do?” one of the girls asked, standing up for him. Rolf looked at me pitifully, his nose scrunched in pain, making his face even more disgusting. “Please help me, Mrs. Gregory…” I didn’t want to deal with it and told them to take him to the nurse’s office, turning to leave. “But, Mrs. Gregory, you have a first aid kit in your office. The nurse’s office is too far. Can’t you bandage him up here?” A student called out. I hesitated, seeing Rolf’s pleading eyes and his bleeding hand. Just then, the bell rang. I suddenly nodded. “Alright, follow me. Everyone else, go back to class.” Rolf flashed a barely noticeable sly smile. He followed me to the office, which was empty because it was class time. I opened the first aid kit and pulled out some alcohol, tweezers, and gauze. “Sit down, I’ll dress your wound,” I said. The breeze fluttered the curtains, lightly ringing the seashell wind chime near the window. I gently and meticulously cleaned his wound. As I worked, he suddenly blushed. “What’s wrong?” I asked. “Mrs. Gregory, you… you’re really beautiful,” Rolf said, staring blankly at me. Taking advantage of his distraction, I smiled and dunked his entire finger into the bottle of alcohol. His wound, already down to the raw flesh, was now submerged in disinfectant. “Be a good boy and let me disinfect it, okay?” I said. He screamed in pain, trying to pull away, his face contorted in agony. “It hurts, teacher! It hurts so much!” But I kept smiling, gripping his wrist tightly, forcing his finger into the narrow bottle neck, soaking it in alcohol until it turned red. He bit his lip, drawing blood, his eyes bulging in shock. For the first time, I saw clear hatred in his eyes.
He could see clearly that I was kind and gentle to everyone—everyone except him, the monster I knew he was. Because of his serious injuries, the school nurse sent him to the hospital. After a few days, Rolf Wagner came back to school with his hand wrapped in bandages. He worked hard in my classes, raising his hand to answer questions, but I always ignored him. Even when he won first place in the school computer competition, I gave him no praise. His enthusiasm gradually dimmed. One day, he approached me and asked, “Mrs. Gregory, why can’t I earn your approval no matter how hard I try?” I slightly swiveled in my office chair, not even looking at him. If showing mercy and compassion results in betrayal, then I didn’t mind being the villain. As long as I can protect myself. “Because you’re unworthy. Some things can’t be changed with effort. Your disgusting heart is far uglier than your face,” I said, feeling justified. Just days ago, on my way home, I caught him torturing a stray cat. By the time I saw it, the poor kitten had been scalded to death with boiling water. He had smiled and said, “That little cat-so naughty! It scratched me.” And back to the moment, Rolf Wagner glared at me, his hand clenching slightly under his sleeve. I didn’t care and continued to treat him coldly. Even the headmaster noticed and frowned while reminding me, “Mrs. Gregory, treat all students equally. Don’t be harsh on him; he needs extra care.” But I didn’t hide my disdain. Right in front of Rolf, I said, “What’s so special about him? He is no different from the other kids. If I treated him differently, would that be fair to the other students?” As a result, he began to hate me, spreading rumors about an improper relationship between me and the principal. However, whenever he saw me, he still put on a smile and greeted me. As fall turned to winter, he started wearing shabby jackets and torn jeans, sticking out in our well-dressed student body. I heard he lost his parents young and was raised by his grandmother, who spoiled him rotten. On my twenty-fifth birthday, I was awarded the title of Outstanding Teacher at the city level—a double celebration. I had a great relationship with my students, making this job something I loved deeply. A few students pooled their money to buy me a beautiful, grand bouquet, which I accepted with a smile. Just as I was laughing and chatting with the students, I saw an unexpected guest in the crowd. Rolf came up to give me a flower as well. He handed me a single white rose, its petals crushed and oozing sap—a hideous sight. “Mrs. Gregory, I saved up my allowance for a week to buy this for you. Please like it,” he said, full of hope. But I, with my smile gone, took a tissue, picked up the flower with it, and tossed it to the ground in front of all the teachers and students. I wrinkled my nose in disdain. “Gross.” Rolf’s mouth quivered, but he still bent down to pick up the flower and walked away silently. His brooding gaze sent chills down my spine, but I didn’t turn back. I wasn’t afraid of his hatred. He always directed his anger toward those weaker than him, while he feared the strong.
My husband, Albert Gregory, had earned a black belt in Taekwondo in his spare time. I had even picked up some basic moves for self-defense. When I got home, Albert was waiting with a big bouquet of roses, his voice soft and loving. “Happy birthday to my amazing wife!” Despite his efforts, I couldn’t shake off my worries. During our candlelight dinner, he mentioned his upcoming overseas research trip. “This trip is really important, honey. I’ll be away for two months and I won’t be around to take care of you,” he sighed. I surprised him by firmly saying no. Knowing he wouldn’t believe in superstitions, I explained, “Albert, I had a dream a few nights ago. After you left, a guy broke into our house, tortured me, and you got killed while trying to protect me.” “Our whole family was ruined, while the bad guy got away,” I said, trembling. Albert squeezed my hand, worried. “How could that happen? We live in a safe neighborhood. Are you feeling okay?” After a lot of pleading, Albert decided to stay and give up his scholarship opportunity. I felt bad for holding him back, but I couldn’t ignore the grim date approaching—that stormy night when Rolf Wagner had broken into our home before. Fate seemed cruel. I remembered it was a Friday. After school, Rolf had once followed me in the rain, begging to come inside. That night, Albert was delayed by a storm. I grew anxious after I couldn’t reach him. He finally texted me, “Honey, the rain’s causing accidents on the highway. Traffic’s crazy, and I can’t make it back. Rest up, okay?” By 10:30 PM, there was no knock at the door. The rain pounded harder, drowning out my scattered thoughts. I began to relax a bit and got sleepy. My body was sticky with cold sweat, so I decided to take a shower before bed. The hot water felt comforting against my skin. In the bathroom mirror, I saw my reflection—cherry-like lips, a dainty nose, and big almond eyes with long lashes. I looked beautiful. I touched my still-flat belly. Albert always said I was beautiful, and he wasn’t bad-looking either. Our baby would be adorable. Lost in thought, I grabbed a towel. But then I saw a shadowy face in the foggy mirror moving towards me. It was Rolf Wagner! Panic surged through me. This wasn’t a hallucination. He had somehow cracked our door lock. A cold, muddy hand reached in. I screamed, but he quickly grabbed my waist, his other hand moving up my body. “Mrs. Gregory, it’s raining outside, and I’m so cold. Can you… hold me?”
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