Broken Wings » en felt a knife piercing my c

She is my English teacher. She was not tall, with short hair, and the English words beating in her mouth sounded like a tape recorder. Of course, she was angry that the temperature of her voice would soon reach the freezing point, shuddering. I clearly remember that I had just turned ten that year. Before we learn English, many students have already become familiar with some basic knowledge. My parents told me with an enlightened vision that I should have a happy childhood, instead of learning a knowledge over and over again. So when it came to class, when I was still worried about A, B, and C, many students were already able to spell the words. I felt so helpless for the first time. When she came, I was relieved, and I thought she would try my best to teach me to make up for the long starting line. The next second, I was desperate. She looked at the classmates who were full of confidence and raised their heads, listening to their childish but inaccurate pronunciation, and nodded with satisfaction. It's time to start class, and her speed makes me overwhelmed. After listening to the lesson stupidly, I walked out of school with my head down. The haze was overwhelming and I couldn't breathe Newport Cigarettes, as if longing for a hearty rain. I couldn't feel the cool wind before the rain, I could only see clusters of dark clouds hovering in the dark gray sky Cheap Cigarettes. I sat at the desk, trying to understand what she had said, but I was upset and opened the window, and wanted to yell outside-after all, it was still hidden in my throat. The sky continued to be gloomy for a few days, and the expression of a lingering expression was still off. The English words that day were like the old lady's foot wraps-stinky and long. When I was reading before class Marlboro Gold, I always couldn't pronounce them, and barely followed everyone to read aloud, rubbing the sweat of my palms with anxiety. "Yes, you, that's you!" I looked up in panic, only to see her standing on the podium with my forefinger pointing directly at the tip of my nose. I even felt a knife piercing my cheek. Her sharp and angry voice stabbed my eardrums. "Every time your pronunciation is different from everyone, I am at a loss for a while, I am at a
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