Nightmare Teacher Novels & Stories

Me- I promise to only defend myself. Fran- Good idea. “Miss Dancer, please find your seat,” a young-looking male teacher, who looks almost as yummy as Evander, stands at the blackboard. “Aw Luna Marcella, I’m Mr. Drake. Welcome to class.” He and I shake hands and I see he is un-marked. Fran- They don’t make teachers like this at Westmoreland! I look at Ki with wide eyes and she has a smirk. “Exactly how are we supposed to concentrate?” I ask Ki.

whispers the teacher in horror. I think she is in serious trouble with Helmut.

Gid, I knocked several times—-Ow," he said as he noticed the woman lying on the bed. "Nah, Uncle, I don't even know who she is, believe me," Gideon says, scratching his brow. Sam took a big breath, saying, "Never mind, go fix this and I'll come back to you later." and exited the room. Gideon nodded and looked at the woman. He walked into the bathroom and stared at himself in the mirror, wondering how long he could distract himself from a nightmare he would never forget for the rest of his life. He returned his attention to his body, the scratch on his chest that would never fade.

“Deep down, you know that you are lying to yourself, but whatever you do, Renee. Just don’t get caught” There was a hole near the rusty doorknob, so I leaned in, pressing an eye against it, and for a second, I saw nothing but when my eyes landed on the two figures in the distance, my heart slammed against my ribcage and my pulse quickened. The teacher, Ms. Kimberly was bent over the table, and right behind her was Landon whose fist tangled her hair as he pulled her hair back and pounded into her. A student and a teacher! What the heck?

But still that pack didn’t have as much say as Cresent Luna did. Sitting there staring at my list. And my thoughts about each point, I had a feeling I had forgotten about something. Something that was important, something that was going to happen tomorrow or the next day! *You have forgotten about dad’s friend that will be coming later this week. Remember your teacher!* Nadia reminds me as I sigh and add another point of the paper. 14) – a mystery teacher who can help me develop my powers and understand this world. *What joy more schooling!* I thought as I rolled my eyes and leaned back in the chair.

when I was having nightmares about Sandra. There was one where she was flogging me with her father's cane. Mehn that was horrible, there is no way I can sleep again. I have to just stay awake till 6 am before taking my bath.... The time passed slowly but finally it was 6 AM, I quickly went to take my shower, had breakfast and then rushed off to school.

Only, it wasn't a wall that I had walked into, since walls never have hands to grab around your waist and neither do they have delicious manly cologne to blow your senses off proportion. I peaked open an eye and gasped again. Oh no! Oh God NO! Not Ethan Fucking Whitmore! It was an extremely rare occasion that a teacher was awfully famous with his students, or should I say, for sleeping with his students. But Ethan Whitmore was that rarity. He was a fresh out of college, trainee teacher who was as good at teaching as he was in bed and...most of the queen bees have slept with him and not to forget that I might have used him as my ideal male lead in some of my stories....scratch that, most of m

First impression=ruined. I'm a straight-A student and I have to impress my teachers but first I have to take a shower because I barely got any sleep today thanks to the nightmares and I'm all sweaty. I never had nightmares up until that day a few months back. Now I hear the screams in every single dream like it just happened and I try not to think about it when I already live through it every single haunting night.

At the ceremony where my mother, Helena Marlow, received the Best Homeroom Teacher award, the parents wept with gratitude. They praised her for nurturing the students successfully without ever resorting to harsh discipline, and for helping them all to excellent results. But no one knew that the path to their children’s success had been paved by Mom, using me as a warning to others. When someone in the class stole money, cheated on an exam, or got into a romantic relationship, I was the one punished. During the ceremony, the principal, Ms. Wanda Ambrose, stepped onto the stage to present her award. She asked, “Ms. Marlow, you have so many outstanding students in your class. Which student

After three back-to-back nights of working until 3:00 am, I dropped dead. Honestly, I thought it was a relief and that my 23 years of corporate misery had finally come to a blissful end. But when I opened my eyes, I found myself transmigrated into a horror game. Right now, I was sitting in a classroom. A hanging ghost dangled from the blackboard, and its long tongue was dragging across the floor. A jumper ghost was doing a handstand on the desk with its eyeballs stretched six feet out of their sockets.