Personal Narrative: Pseoudologia Fantastica

Pseoudologia Fantastica In high school I was the kid that did not put any energy or time on doing homework and such time wasters. I never studied, did homework I was a shitty student. To make things worst I was blessed and cursed with a gift from heaven; a special talent to lie my way out of any problem, now that I think about it I should have been an actor because my lies were actually good, and I was able to keep a straight face and lie to whomever got in my path of doing nothing. However everything changed my sophomore year. Ms. Lisa foster was the best and worst teacher ever, she was my English teacher. She was the kind of teacher that you would call mom, and I say it just because my mom was really strict with me. I felt that she …show more content…
I was like every sophomore insecure of myself, and it wasn’t that I hated public speaking the big problem was that I didn’t prepare my speech; of course I wasn’t that lazy I did some research beforehand some afternoon a while ago when I felt like doing homework, but besides that afternoon I didn’t remember doing any research about the topic I was giving: The Great Gatsby. So I knew that as soon as I stepped on that classroom I was to make a fool of myself and my poor research on why Gatsby represented the American …show more content…
I was nervous the whole class; I knew that as soon as my math class was over I would have to go deal with my incompetent research and give a poor speech and maybe fail the class. As soon as the school bell rang I knew that I was sentenced to be the weird kid that was a failure in life as I was walking slowly through the cramped yet lonely halls I was thinking of the ways the other kids would make fun of me, maybe they would laugh at me because I stutter, maybe because I was sounding stupid, and all that pressure would make me pee in front of every one including that girl I liked, it was terrible. The classroom was on my eyesight, I could feel how the temperature was getting lower as I got closer to the freezing cold classroom, Ms. Lisa was there waiting for us smiling the same way a butcher smiles when it sees new fresh meat. I couldn’t believe that I was getting closer to that slaughter house. My hands started to sweat and my feet to shiver my heart was about to implode, and then out of nowhere my feet stopped and I forgot how to walk. I stood there for what it felt nine years. I turned