(I'm wondering whether to continue this, or my other "a memory of February snow" tell me which I should continue please) The road seemed never to end, forever bending around deadly corners that dared you to try and take the wrong turn, or to creep past just a little too fast. My grip was firm though, allowing me to bend at will as I ran. The crackles of laughter echoing behind me. Gaining closer, matching my own as my feet pound the floor harder. Fast, fun, slipping away. The sky was black, the night had descended upon us, blackening everything- as if the road wasn't hard enough to escape on as it is. We still done it though, ran along that road, all of us. I looked back to see who had managed to catch up to me, who were just like me. A blur blocks my view, just a rush of colour, voices easily audible, but their faces- indescribable, just a blur. Why couldn't see them? I woke up in the middle of my art class. Slowly lifting my head to look around, expecting to see the darkness of the sky, and to hear the voices following behind me, gaining closer. Instead I was greeted by a small girl shaking my shoulder, it seems she was the only one who had noticed I had been sleeping. Stretching and staring at the girl who dared disturbed my slumber I wished that she'd let me sleep, to finish that dream and to let me discover the faces of my followers- those who I never managed to discover. The radio's volume grew louder as another girl laughed and started singing along to the song 'Sober' by Pink. I groaned whilst her and the others started singing along whilst glueing down different papers onto their books. They called it a "collage" I called it a mess and a lot of work to create something that in the end you could never truly make out anyway. The girl next to me resumed her painting, trying to finish the forget-me-not flower. You could tell she was failing, badly! I looked at her piece of art, to be honest it was kind of disappointing coming from a year 11 GCSE art student. She was supposed to be one of the top artists in the year and yet id seen work done by my 5 year old cousins that contained more of a resemblance. She sighed contentfully as she packed away her paint equipment back on the stained shelf, then sat back in her seat and closed her book, oblivious to the fact that her work was still wet and fresh. I opened my mouth ready to tell her, well how else was she going to find out before it was too late? It was just at that moment that the schools bell ran. Drilling it's sound into every class-room making everyone hear it, and bear it's horrible ringing noise. Literally, that's what it's sound is like. Not a proper ringing like most school bells in those video's of schools with those heart melting teachers, the children who always wore the same smiling faces each day. "Little angels" they'd be called. Ha, yeah okay. Well our school bell literally made no nice ringing, no gentle sound to it's listeners. Just pure noise, a 'hell in a bell' as we call it. The listeners always covered their ears, or tried shutting away the noise from their ears every time it boomed. There was really no point to it though, even when trying to it was still audible. Someone said that they could hear it from over the bridge, at least a quarter of a mile from here easily. I wonder if they could? (once again if I have used "she" it's because I haven't thought of a name yet for her. If you like please comment and I'll add more)