Entitled Brat Mocks School Custodian, Gets Taught a Priceless Lesson in the Best Way Possible
Entitled teen Emma thought the world revolved around her and she mocked people based on their appearance. One day, the girl took her mockery too far and brutally insulted Mrs. Johnson, a poor older custodian. But karma was about to deliver a priceless lesson this entitled brat wouldn’t soon forget.
Alright, lovely people of the internet! Ever witnessed a high schooler throw some serious shade at someone who totally didn’t deserve it?
Because what I’m about to tell you involves a major brat who ruthlessly mocked a poor old custodian and got a life lesson delivered in the most epic way possible…
A schoolgirl in a hallway | Source: Midjourney
So here’s this rich girl named Emma in my sophomore English class, who basically waltzed around like she owned the place.
Think designer everything, a posse of giggling followers, and the permanent sneer of someone utterly convinced the world was her personal runway.
Her favorite target? Our sweet custodian, Mrs. Johnson, a hardworking older lady in her late 60s. Think soft-spoken, kind, and always cheerful – that’s Mrs. Johnson for you.
A custodian mopping the floor | Source: Midjourney
This sweet custodian in our school, bless her heart, was magic. Always had a smile, even when mopping up cafeteria mystery spills that defied identification.
Emma, though? She’d make snide remarks about Mrs. Johnson’s cleaning cart, calling it a “janitor chariot” in that grating, nasally voice.
A teen girl laughing | Source: Midjourney
One afternoon, I caught Emma dumping her half-eaten lunch on the floor by the water fountain, then sauntering away like it was nothing. Mrs. Johnson patiently approached the mess with a sigh.
“Emma, honey,” she called out gently, “did you drop this?”
A burger on the floor | Source: Midjourney
Emma whipped around, highlighter poised like a weapon. “Ugh, whatever, Mrs. J. Just clean it up, that’s your job, right?” The look on Mrs. Johnson’s face… well, let’s just say the sunshine usually radiating from her seemed to dim a bit.
A girl smiling | Source: Midjourney
Ugh, you know those moments where you just want the earth to swallow you whole? Well, that’s exactly how I felt witnessing Emma’s latest tirade.
This girl, with her designer everything and attitude, seemed to take a particular pleasure in tormenting Mrs. Johnson.
An older woman looking ahead | Source: Midjourney
One lunch period, I rounded the corner by the cafeteria to find Emma holding court near the overflowing trash cans. Mrs. Johnson was pushing her cleaning cart past them, mop leaving a clean streak in its wake.
A girl teasing someone | Source: Midjourney
Emma, with a smirk that could curdle milk, decided to unleash a verbal grenade at the poor woman who never meant harm to anyone.
“HEY, MRS. JOHNSON,” the girl barked with a chuckle, “MAYBE IF YOU HAD STUDIED HARDER, YOU WOULDN’T BE STUCK CLEANING UP AFTER US!”
A sad woman’s eyes | Source: Midjourney
The worst part? Her disciples as in the little gang that followed her like a puppy burst out laughing. Mrs. Johnson stopped pushing her cart, the rhythmic squeak of the wheels falling silent.
Her shoulders slumped a fraction, and for a horrible moment, I thought I saw a flicker of tears welling up in her kind eyes.
An upset woman looking up | Source: Midjourney
Then, Emma doubled down, leaning in with a malicious glint.
“Seriously, do you even know how to read? Or did you just skip school altogether?”
Mrs. Johnson’s silence was deafening. The hurt flickered in her eyes like a dying flame, and I knew I couldn’t be a bystander any longer. Emma needed a lesson, and detention wouldn’t cut it.
A sad woman on the verge of crying | Source: Midjourney
Fast forward to chemistry class later that week, our chemistry teacher Ms. Thompson droned on about the periodic table.
Suddenly, she cleared her throat, the sound sharp enough to pierce Emma’s bubble. “Alright class,” she announced, a hint of a smile playing on her lips, “we have a special guest lecturer today. A former university professor with a wealth of knowledge to share.”
A chemistry teacher in class | Source: Midjourney
A hush fell over the room as the door creaked open. A woman in a crisp cap and gown strode in, a stack of papers clutched confidently in her hand. Her gaze swept the classroom, lingering for a beat on Emma, who finally looked up from her phone.
You should have seen Emma’s white-as-a-ghost face when she saw the guest lecturer. You see, this wasn’t some stuffy professor flown in from a distant college. No, this woman, radiating quiet authority, was none other than Mrs. Johnson!
A shocked girl | Source: Midjourney’
“Good afternoon, class,” Mrs. Johnson greeted. “Today, we’ll be discussing the fascinating world of…” She paused, letting the silence build. “Perhaps, Ms. Emma,” she continued, her eyes locking with Emma’s, “you can tell me the difference between a hypothesis and a theory.”
The classroom held its breath. Emma’s mouth gaped open like a landed fish. This was only the beginning, and the best part? She had no idea what was about to hit her.
A woman staring intensely at someone | Source: Midjourney
Emma’s jaw dropped, and her face turned as red as a tomato. Mrs. Johnson proceeded to give the most engaging lecture on organic chemistry I had ever witnessed.
She explained complex concepts with ease and answered every question thrown at her with the expertise of someone who had spent years in the field.
“So, who can tell me why carbon forms four bonds?” Mrs. Johnson’s eyes scanned the room.
An annoyed girl | Source: Midjourney
“Isn’t it because of its four valence electrons?” a boy named Jake piped up, a bit unsure.
“Exactly! And how does that affect its ability to form complex molecules?” Her voice was encouraging, drawing the class in.
“It means… it can bond with many different elements?” a student named Sarah hesitated.
A boy raising his hand in class | Source: Midjourney
“Precisely! And that’s why carbon is the backbone of organic chemistry. It’s versatile,” Mrs. Johnson beamed.
Emma, still red-faced, mumbled, “I didn’t know a janitor could know so much.”
A girl lost in deep thought | Source: Midjourney
Mrs. Johnson paused, looking directly at Emma. “You know, knowledge isn’t confined to titles. It’s about passion and curiosity.”
The class was silent, absorbing her words while some giggled at Emma.
“Any more questions?” Mrs. Johnson asked, turning back to the board.
A woman looking ahead | Source: Midjourney
Emma was so embarrassed and furious that she sat frozen in her seat. Her eyeballs darted around, tracking Mrs. Johnson like a predator stalking its prey.
After the lecture, Mrs. Johnson removed her academic cap and looked directly at Emma.
“Maybe if you study harder, you won’t end up making assumptions about people based on their jobs, girl!” she said calmly.
A woman pointing her finger at someone | Source: Midjourney
The entire class erupted in applause while Emma sat there, stunned and embarrassed.
You should’ve seen the girl’s face. She was seething. She wasn’t the type to let this slide.
The next thing we knew, Emma stormed out of the classroom, her footsteps echoing down the hall. But my mind was still on this entitled brat. What was she planning?
A girl leaving a classroom | Source: Midjourney
Of course, Emma, being the firecracker she was, couldn’t take her public humiliation lying down. The rumor mill went into overdrive, churning out a story so outlandish it almost made me laugh.
Apparently, The girl started spreading rumors that Mrs. Johnson had borrowed the professorial garb from a friend (who?) and simply read the lecture off a script (written by whom?).
Funny, right?
A girl in the school cafeteria | Source: Midjourney
The rumor spread like wildfire. Even some normally level-headed students started giving Mrs. Johnson the side-eye. It was infuriating! But Mrs. Johnson, bless her heart, remained calm. No dramatics, no tearful outbursts. She simply… waited.
The opportunity for a counter-strike arrived with the much-dreaded parent-teacher conference the next week. Parents flooded the school, armed with questions and concerns.
People at a doorway | Source: Midjourney
Among them were Emma’s parents, both prominent figures in the community with a reputation for being… well, let’s just say they wielded their influence like a well-worn scepter.
As I finished my conference with a concerned parent, I spotted Mrs. Johnson standing by the refreshments table.
A woman looking to her side | Source: Midjourney
During the conference, she requested to speak. She calmly walked to the front of the room, pulled out a folder, and began distributing copies of her Ph.D. diploma, letters of recommendation from her previous university, and published research papers.
The parents and teachers were stunned. Even me.
Certificates on a table | Source: Midjourney
“As you can see,” Mrs. Johnson declared, “I have the qualifications necessary to teach chemistry.” She paused, letting the evidence sink in. “I’ve heard rumors suggesting otherwise, and I want to address them directly.”
Emma’s parents, visibly uncomfortable, exchanged worried glances. Mrs. Johnson turned her gaze to them. “Mr. and Mrs. Thompson, I’m aware your daughter has been spreading these rumors.”
A startled couple | Source: Midjourney
Emma’s mother started to speak, but Mrs. Johnson raised a hand gently. “Please, let me finish.”
She took a deep breath. “I took this custodial job not because I lacked education or ambition, but because I needed the extra money to care for my ill husband. My choices were driven by love and responsibility, not by a lack of intelligence or effort.”
A woman staring at someone | Source: Midjourney
A hush fell over the room. Parents looked at each other, some nodding in understanding, others shifting uncomfortably.
“My husband passed away last year,” Mrs. Johnson continued, tears welling up in her eyes. “But I stayed on as a custodian because this school and these students mean the world to me.”
A woman’s teary eyes | Source: Midjourney
Emma’s face went completely pale at this point. Mrs. Johnson stepped back from the podium, and said, “I hope this clears up any misunderstandings. I’m here to educate and support your children, no matter my title. I might be a custodian who washes toilets and scrubs floors… but I’m still human.”
Emma’s eyes darted around the room, looking for an escape.
Anxious girl biting her nails | Source: Midjourney
Emma’s parents were mortified. They apologized profusely to Mrs. Johnson and promised to deal with their daughter.
Emma was grounded for months and had to do community service as part of her punishment. One of her tasks? Helping Mrs. Johnson with her custodial duties after school.
A young girl on the verge of crying | Source: Midjourney
I watched Emma begrudgingly pick up a mop and start cleaning the hallway. Mrs. Johnson worked alongside her, showing her the ropes. At first, Emma was sullen and silent, but over time, I noticed a change.
One afternoon, as I passed by, I heard Emma ask Mrs. Johnson, “Why did you stay on as a custodian after your husband passed?”
A girl standing in a school hallway | Source: Midjourney
Mrs. Johnson paused, wiping her hands on a rag. “This school became my second home. And the kids here, well, they needed someone who cared.”
Emma frowned. “But you could have done something else, right?”
Mrs. Johnson smiled gently. “Sure, but sometimes, it’s not about what you can do, but where you feel you can make the most impact.”
A girl talking to someone | Source: Midjourney
Emma’s eyes softened. “I never thought about it that way.”
As the weeks went by, Emma’s demeanor shifted. She began to show up early, ready to work, and started to ask Mrs. Johnson more about her life. They shared stories, and slowly, Emma developed a grudging respect for her.
An older woman’s compassionate eyes | Source: Midjourney
The girl was ashamed of herself and even apologized to Mrs. Johnson. How cool was that?!
Mrs. Johnson, ever the kind soul, forgave Emma and used the opportunity to mentor her. Eventually, Emma’s grades improved, and she became more considerate towards others.
By the time she graduated, she had completely transformed from the entitled brat she once was.
A cheerful young girl smiling | Source: Midjourney
One afternoon, Emma approached Mrs. Johnson after finishing her custodial duties. I was there, talking to the sweet old lady. I thought Emma would hesitate or feel shy to talk to the custodian in front of me.
But the girl proved me wrong. “Mrs. Johnson, I’m really sorry for everything. I was awful to you,” she said and I couldn’t believe my eyes.
A woman smiling at someone | Source: Midjourney
Mrs. Johnson smiled gently and replied, “Emma, we all make mistakes. What’s important is that you learn and grow from them.”
Emma nodded, her eyes sincere. “I have, thanks to you.”
Ah, it was such a heartwarming sight, you know! The mentorship deepened, with Mrs. Johnson helping Emma with her studies and offering life advice. Emma’s grades soared, and her attitude shift was noticeable to everyone.
A girl in a classroom | Source: Midjourney
Graduation day arrived, and Emma, now the valedictorian, stood at the podium. She took a deep breath, scanning the audience until her eyes landed on Mrs. Johnson.
“I want to thank someone very special,” she began, “Mrs. Johnson, our school’s custodian and my mentor, taught me the most valuable lesson of all: never judge a book by its cover.”
A young girl on graduation day | Source: Midjourney
The crowd murmured, and Mrs. Johnson looked surprised and touched. We teachers, along with the principal himself, were equally moved. I even spotted him discreetly wiping a stray tear from his eye.
Emma continued, “Her kindness, wisdom, and support changed my life. Because of her, I’m standing here today, ready to face the future.”
As the applause erupted, the girl stepped down and hugged Mrs. Johnson tightly. “Thank you,” she whispered, “for everything. For opening my eyes.”
A girl on graduation day | Source: Midjourney
Mrs. Johnson’s eyes were misty and all she could do was pull Emma into a tight hug. The room erupted in applause, and even some of us teachers found ourselves wiping away tears.
Lesson learned: never underestimate someone by their appearance!
Mrs. Johnson, the custodian, just dropped some serious knowledge (and a Ph.D.!). Anyone else ever been surprised by someone’s hidden depths? Let’s hear about it!
A woman looking ahead | Source: Midjourney
Elderly Man Always Bought Two Movie Tickets for Himself, So One Day I Decided to Find Out Why – Story of the Day
Every Monday, I watched an elderly man buy two tickets but always sit alone. Curiosity drove me to uncover his secret, so I bought a seat next to him. When he started sharing his story, I had no idea that our lives were about to intertwine in ways I could never have imagined.
The old city cinema wasn’t just a job for me. It was a place where the hum of the projector could momentarily erase the worries of the world. The scent of buttered popcorn lingered in the air, and the faded vintage posters whispered stories of a golden age I had only ever imagined.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
Every Monday morning, Edward appeared, his arrival as steady as the sunrise. He wasn’t like the regulars who rushed in, fumbling for coins or their tickets.
Edward carried himself with quiet dignity, his tall, lean frame draped in a neatly buttoned gray coat. His silver hair, combed back with precision, caught the light as he approached the counter. He always asked for the same thing.
“Two tickets for the morning movie.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
And yet, he always came alone.
His fingers, cold from the December chill, brushed mine as I handed him the tickets. I managed a polite smile, though my mind raced with unspoken questions.
Why two tickets? Who are they for?
“Two tickets again?” Sarah teased from behind me, smirking as she rang up another customer. “Maybe it’s for some lost love. Like an old-fashioned romance, you know?”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
“Or maybe a ghost,” another coworker, Steve, chimed in, snickering. “He’s probably married to one.”
I didn’t laugh. There was something about Edward that made their jokes feel wrong.
I thought about asking him, even rehearsing a few lines in my head, but every time the moment came, my courage vanished. After all, it wasn’t my place.
***
The following Monday was different. It was my day off, and as I lay in bed, staring at the frost creeping along the edges of the window, an idea began to form.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
What if I follow him? It isn’t spying. It is… curiosity. Almost Christmas, after all—a season of wonder.
The morning air was sharp and fresh, and the holiday lights strung along the street seemed to glow brighter.
Edward was already seated when I entered the dimly lit theater, his figure outlined by the soft glow of the screen. He seemed lost in thought, his posture as straight and purposeful as ever. His eyes flickered toward me, and a faint smile crossed his lips.
“You’re not working today,” he observed.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
I slid into the seat next to him. “I thought you might need a company. I’ve seen you here so many times.”
He chuckled softly, though the sound held a trace of sadness. “It’s not about movies.”
“Then what is it?” I asked, unable to hide the curiosity in my tone.
Edward leaned back in his seat, his hands folded neatly in his lap. For a moment, he seemed hesitant, as though deciding whether or not to trust me with what he was about to say.
Then he spoke.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
“Years ago,” he began, his gaze fixed on the screen, “there was a woman who worked here. Her name was Evelyn.”
I remained quiet, sensing this wasn’t a story to rush.
“She was beautiful,” he continued, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Not in the way that turns heads but in the way that lingers. Like a melody, you can’t forget. She’d been working here. We met here, and then our story began.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
I pictured it as he spoke: the bustling cinema, the flicker of the projector casting shadows on her face, and their quiet conversations between showings.
“One day, I invited her to a morning show on her day off,” Edward said. “She agreed.”
He paused, his voice faltering slightly. “But she never came.”
“What happened?” I whispered, leaning closer.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
“I found out later she’d been fired,” he said, his tone heavier now. “When I asked the manager for her contact information, he refused and told me never to come back. I didn’t understand why. She was just… gone.”
Edward exhaled, his gaze falling to the empty seat beside him. “I tried to move on. I got married and lived a quiet life. But after my wife passed, I started coming here again, hoping… just hoping… I don’t know.”
I swallowed hard. “She was the love of your life.”
“She was. And she still is.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
“What do you remember about her?” I asked.
“Only her name,” Edward admitted. “Evelyn.”
“I’ll help you find her.”
At that moment, the realization of what I’d promised struck me. Evelyn had worked at the cinema, but the manager—the one who had fired her—was my father. A man who barely acknowledged my existence.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
***
Getting ready to face my father felt like preparing for a battle I wasn’t sure I could win. I adjusted the conservative jacket I’d chosen and brushed my hair back into a sleek ponytail. Every detail mattered.
My Dad, Thomas, appreciated order and professionalism—traits he lived by and judged others for.
Edward waited patiently by the door, his hat in hand, looking both apprehensive and composed. “You’re sure he’ll talk to us?”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
“No,” I admitted, pulling on my coat. “But we have to try.”
On the way to the cinema office, I found myself opening up to Edward, perhaps to calm my nerves.
“My mom had Alzheimer’s,” I explained, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter. “It started while she was pregnant with me. Her memory was… unpredictable. Some days, she’d know exactly who I was. Other days, she’d look at me like I was a stranger.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
Edward nodded solemnly. “That must have been hard for you.”
“It was,” I said. “Especially because my Dad, I call him Thomas, decided to put her in a care facility. I understand why, but over time, he just stopped visiting her. And when my grandmother passed, all the responsibility fell on me. He helped financially, but he was… absent. That’s the best way to describe him. Distant. Always distant.”
Edward didn’t say much, but his presence was grounding. When we reached the cinema, I hesitated before opening the door to Thomas’s office.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
Inside, he sat at his desk, papers meticulously arranged in front of him. His sharp, calculating eyes flicked to me, then to Edward. “What’s this about?”
“Hi, Dad. This is my friend, Edward,” I stammered.
“Go on.” His face didn’t change.
“I need to ask you about someone who worked here years ago. A woman named Evelyn.”
He froze for a fraction of a second, then leaned back in his chair. “I don’t discuss former employees.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
“You need to make an exception,” I pressed. “Edward has been searching for her for decades. We deserve answers.”
Thomas’s gaze shifted to Edward, narrowing slightly. “I don’t owe him anything. Or you, for that matter.”
Edward spoke for the first time. “I loved her. She was everything to me.”
Thomas’s jaw tightened. “Her name wasn’t Evelyn.”
“What?” I blinked.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
“She called herself Evelyn, but her real name was Margaret,” he admitted, his words cutting through the air. “Your mother. She made up that name because she was having an affair with him,” he gestured toward Edward, “and thought I wouldn’t find out.”
The room went silent.
Edward’s face paled. “Margaret?”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
“She was pregnant when I found out,” Thomas continued bitterly. “With you, as it turned out.” He looked at me then, his cold expression faltering for the first time. “I thought cutting her off from him would make her rely on me. But it didn’t. And when you were born…”
Thomas sighed heavily. “I knew I wasn’t your father.”
My head spun, disbelief washing over me in waves. “You knew all this time?”
“I provided for her,” he said, avoiding my gaze. “For you. But I couldn’t stay.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
Edward’s voice broke the silence. “Margaret is Evelyn?”
“She was Margaret to me,” Thomas replied stiffly. “But clearly, she wanted to be someone else with you.”
Edward sank into a chair, his hands trembling. “She never told me. I… I had no idea.”
I looked between them, my heart pounding. Thomas was not my father at all.
“I think,” I said, “we need to visit her. Together.” I glanced at Edward, then turned to Thomas, holding his gaze. “All three of us. Christmas is a time for forgiveness, and if there’s ever a moment to set things right, it’s now.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
For a moment, I thought Thomas would scoff or dismiss the idea altogether. But to my surprise, he hesitated, his stern expression softening. Without a word, he stood, reached for his overcoat, and nodded.
“Let’s do this,” he said gruffly, slipping his arms into the coat.
***
We drove to the care facility in silence. Edward sat beside me, his hands folded tightly in his lap. Thomas was in the back seat, his posture rigid, his eyes staring out the window.
When we arrived, the holiday wreath on the facility’s door seemed oddly out of place against the surroundings.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
Mom was in her usual spot by the lounge window, her frail figure draped in a cozy cardigan. She was staring outside, her face distant, as though lost in a world far away. Her hands rested motionless in her lap even as we approached.
“Mom,” I called gently, but there was no reaction.
Edward stepped forward, his movements slow and deliberate. He looked at her.
“Evelyn.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
The change was instant. Her head turned toward him, her eyes sharpening with recognition. It was as if a light had been switched on inside her. Slowly, she rose to her feet.
“Edward?” she whispered.
He nodded. “It’s me, Evelyn. It’s me.”
Tears welled in her eyes, and she took a shaky step forward. “You’re here.”
“I never stopped waiting,” he replied, his own eyes glistening.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
Watching them, my heart swelled with emotions I couldn’t fully name. This was their moment, but it was also mine.
I turned to Thomas, who stood a few steps behind, his hands in his pockets. His usual sternness was gone, replaced by something almost vulnerable.
“You did the right thing coming here,” I said softly.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
He gave a slight nod but said nothing. His gaze lingered on Mom and Edward, and for the first time, I saw something that looked like regret.
The snow began to fall gently outside, blanketing the world in a soft, peaceful hush.
“Let’s not end it here,” I said, breaking the quiet. “It’s Christmas. How about we go get some hot cocoa and watch a holiday movie? Together.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
Edward’s eyes lit up. Thomas hesitated.
“That sounds… nice,” he said gruffly, but his voice softer than I’d ever heard it.
That day, four lives intertwined in ways none of us had imagined. Together, we walked into a story that had taken years to find its ending—and its new beginning.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
Tell us what you think about this story, and share it with your friends. It might inspire them and brighten their day.
If you enjoyed this story, read this one: The day before Christmas, everything seemed perfect until it wasn’t. I found a receipt for a stunning necklace, signed by my husband, hidden in my sister’s coat. Was it a gift or something far worse?
This piece is inspired by stories from the everyday lives of our readers and written by a professional writer. Any resemblance to actual names or locations is purely coincidental. All images are for illustration purposes only. Share your story with us; maybe it will change someone’s life.
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