The door to the classroom creaked open, and all eyes turned as a man shuffled in, dragging his feet across the floor. His appearance immediately caught everyone's attention—a disheveled figure with unkempt hair sticking out in all directions, worn-out clothes that looked like they hadn't seen an iron in years, and dark eye bags that sagged beneath his hollow eyes. His posture was slightly hunched, and as he moved toward the podium, it was as if he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders.
"Morning," he mumbled in a low, sluggish voice that barely reached the back of the room. The students exchanged curious glances. Was he drunk? His voice had that groggy, slurred tone that suggested he hadn't had a proper night's sleep in weeks. The room was filled with a hushed murmur, as everyone tried to figure out just what kind of teacher they had.
