School

The sound of pencils scratching against paper echoes throughout the silent. The faint taste of chalk, dry's out the children's mouths as they breathe in and out. The dusty old carpet, smells as if it hadn't been cleaned in years.

Hard desks felt rough again the smooth feel of the children's hands as they wrote. The sight was terrifying as Miss Madison walked down the rows of desks, and stopped in front of, mine.