Poor Student Novels & Stories

Inside were two crumpled stacks of cash. “Aran, paying off a million in debt is a bit hard… but I’ve been doing manual labor every day. My parents think I’m useless now, so they’ve started grooming another heir. I’m not a rich heiress anymore. “Can you… can you forgive me…” At that moment, I didn’t know what to say. I had once said that liars should swallow a thousand needles. Did it count that she had spent a year washing dishes? This worn-down state of hers was her punishment.

he told her. "No, I really can't accept this." Zara told him. "It's for the errrmm... scholarship students," he said, improvising badly. "I heard students are mostly hungry from studying too much, with little to no allowance. You are a student. Therefore, eat the muffins to regain your strength."He said to me while scratching his head awkwardly. Zara almost laughed. It was such a ridiculous, transparent excuse from a man who could probably buy a bakery chain on a whim, just because he wanted her to eat something.

What if I have to carry this fake poor-girl version of me forever, every conversation a minefield, every glance a check for cracks? “Yeah, together, sure,” I mumbled, letting my voice crack again on cue, throwing in a shaky hitch like a sob caught in my throat. Guys eat that up makes them feel big and protective. “I just wanted to study medicine so bad, you know? My family’s got nothing. We’re dirt poor up north, barely scraping by day to day. This school was my only real chance at something better. The girl schools back home? Trash. ”

Maybe they never expected someone like me, a rising star among the principal's new favorite students, to have such a tragic backstory. Wesley, however, slowly turned his skeptical gaze on me. He didn't say anything. Just watched. "I know, I know," I continued, my voice heavy with guilt. "What I've done is terrible. I'm poor, I have no parents, I got into this school on a special admission, I can barely make ends meet, I survive by picking up trash—but all of that is my fault." I paused dramatically. "But even so, I have a dream. A dream to help those at the bottom."

Liliana sighed, "She has gone from calling me ugly and poor to calling me a third party and opportunist. She is smart enough to know that there can’t be any poor students in Kings High.” “Even the kids who get in via scholarship get a generous scholarship which elevates their financial status dramatically because the student’s family is not allowed to take the money.”

“Some people from the lower status can be unscrupulous to achieve their motives. They are willing to act meek, subservient, and even do dirty tricks. This is not something we can easily learn.” Undisguised sharp and unkind words could be heard from a few of those students.

He ran to class without paying any attention to anyone. After arriving in class, he found his bag and books scattered on the floor. Shoe stamps everywhere. Not only that, the seats and tables are also full of markers, including; POOR CHILDREN ARE BETTER TO DIE, UGLY AND POOR IS BANNED ALIVE, and IDIOT.

Okay, I was the one who gave her the chance to treat me this way. "But you know you can simply stay out of it and let it slide like you know nothing about my true identity.." I told her and she rolled her eyes. "Stay out of it? You are flirting and living alone with my guy and you want me to stay out of it?" "I'm his housemaid..and..and I am not flirting with him" "You know what... I can of course let it slide" "Please just let it slide" I repeated. "But do you know what the rich students do to poor students in this school?"

And her technique of expression is to compare excellent and poor students. She pointed to Mary Kinson's hand and didn't put it down: "As for you, when you first came to school, you fought and caused trouble outside. You only know how to sleep in class. People like you come to school to muddle along. Tell yourself what you will have in the future. Rely on your fairly good face to make a living?" Mary Kinson’ss eyebrows gently twisted, was about to open her mouth to refute. But someone around stand up first, and the dining table was photographed with a bang, and the sound of dishes colliding vibrated and echoed.

Stacy shook her head like she was actually disappointed. “You know Stacy, your type are the ones that will always believe people are under you and whatever you can’t do, you believe that no one else can do it and whatever you do, is what you believe that everybody will do. But sorry to burst your bubble, I am not your type that allows any street rat to get into my hole and if you can’t deal with the fact, you might as well drink the toilet water for all I care.” “Ohhh,” the surrounding students gasped and Stacy looked at them angrily before me.