Every second, every minute, every hour, every day, every month and every year we go to the same school where we're force the same facts, statistics and 'ideas' which we are told to remember for the same exam which determines our life only to be told it isn't good enough and we must work harder, longer and faster to meet deadlines and the expectations of society. Again, and again.

I walk into the dark grey classroom where the same students are sat in the same seats as they had been for years, not talking, speaking, or...breathing it felt like. They all sat, with blank, lifeless faces as I passed and I sat down, the silence slowly suffocating me until the door was opened to reveal, the same teacher as before. The frail frame of the man shuffled to his desk where he sat and his wrinkled and pain stricken face turned to us, as if all the happiness and inspiration had been drained from him and he recited the lessons we had already gone over countless times before, in the same monotonous voice which my brain had learned to tune out after so long. I looked around the lifeless classroom, at the emotionless faces of the students sat in rows and columns, with strait backs, heads facing forward, legs and arms crossed in exactly the same way as each other, all stopping to take notes at the same time, writing the same amount and the same information. Why? Surely learning and retaining information is different for each person?

I turned to my own notes, scruffily written snippets of the speech which the teacher had hammered into my brain with as much power and dedication as the rusty old projector which needed to be replaced, but never was or will. Doodles upon doodles in the margins and between words in different coloured Biro littered the lined paper, creating a new world entirely on the single page, one with dragons, girls in pretty dresses, dancing across the crisp page, with mini pink cars in the shape of strawberries and superheros who battled aliens with giant eyes and laser guns. I looked at the student next to me. Plain. Boring. Nothing but the notes that we were given to copy down, word for word with the correct spacing, size, probably even the allocated font, if we even have one. For a second, I thought that they looked at me, but that's ridiculous, right? After all, that would different. That isn't the same as everyone else, so it's unspeakable. I'm probably going insane after sitting in this bleak classroom all day. I went back to examining my allocated seat, which was decorated by drawings and little messages, lyrics and numbers by other students like myself who were obviously bored of the dreary systematic school life. None of the other desks were defiled, they were all pristine, the same as they were when they were put there, the only difference being the aged image of the desks which had changed over the time they had been sat there.

As I sat, I couldn't help but wonder why that was...Why my desk was unique on it's own and the others weren't...why the students didn't interact at all with each other-or me, and why they never seemed to change at all...Maybe I'm sat here for a reason, and it's why the notes and messages on the desk are written on there are ones which all link to my situation of being stuck in a never changing life of repetitiveness. Why was that exactly?

As if it knew, the bell rang, interrupting my thoughts as if what I was doing was wrong and I gathered my things at lightning speed and was ready to escape this hell but my path was blocked by the other students who had all rose, elegantly from their seats in synchronization, leaving in orderly queues to the corridor to head back to the dorms. I did the same, after I could finally leave, but before I did, I glanced at the corner of the room opposite to my desk when a flicker of light danced across my eye. Is there something there? No. Just the same corner as always. I laughed dryly and headed back to my room where at least I could enter my technicolour dreams which were a temporary relief from the suffocating school life.

My dream was of a bustling, hyperactive school of students hurrying to class in their friendship groups, with love confessions, drama, fights and pranks all happening at once. I dreamed about my own group for friends who ran to me laughing and chatting about anything and everything we could before lessons started. Even when they did, we passed notes and whispered as the teacher wrote on the board. The lessons were invigorating, inspiring and encouraged us to find the answer ourselves and learn with some independence. 

The bell rang, yet again and I was forced to leave my haven to return to reality and get ready for another day of school, regardless of the fact it was as same as yesterday and it wouldn't matter if I missed out, or if I understood what was taught yesterday, because I was expected to learn it again. 

"Why..." I saw the student in front of me twitch.

"Why are we living in a limbo?" I muttered over the silent atmosphere of breakfast, craving a response of any kind.

"Why are we doing the same thing each day like yesterday never happened!?" I yelled, and they twitched again.

"Why won't you reply?!" I screamed, slamming my food down and leaving to retreat to my classroom seat where I could wallow in my own anger and fear, away from everyone even if it was only for a tiny moment. Unknowingly, as I left, two strange figures appeared clad in all white headed over to the the twitching student who, at the direct reference, had lost all control and was twitching and sparking like a robot would do if they were malfunctioning. 

The class started and I was welcomed to a new day by repeating yesterday and almost instantly I zoned out, gazing out of the window at the bright blue sky which was warmed by the glowing sun. Thick, fluffy clouds which floated calmly across the sky, bobbing along wherever the wind lead them, as if they had faith in the winds plans. A tiny bird swept across the picture perfect scene, darting across the clouds bold as brass, its black outline making it stand out as the main piece of the art. I smiled and gazed until I sensed that all eyes were on me. Well....the teachers were, the students still faced forward.

"Face the front. Your here to learn." He said, glaring with stone cold eyes. At least it's some emotion.

"We learned this yesterday. I know it already. Can't we do something different?" The exhilarating scene of the outside had transferred it's energy to my heart and I felt a desire to change, to go against the routine...To rebel.

"Different?" The teacher replied, twitching like the student in the food hall. It was then I noticed, they weren't here, their seat was empty. I grinned, and finally, finally I felt as if I could escape this. I grabbed my pen and draw on the desks of the students, a crazed excitement in my brain powering my pointless but relieving actions. 

"Different?" The students chorused. I turned slowly, and to my horror all the students and even the teacher were....sparking?! Bright yellow streams escaped their heads and arms as their limbs flung around manically and their bodies flopped like fish which had been caught and were experiencing the bitter air of the surface.

"System, ma-mal-malfunct-t-ion-" The robotic words escaped their mouths and the everyday rhythm which I had hated shattered into a thousand pieces as the door was smashed open and a gang of white clad figures stormed in and grabbed me by the arms and legs, dragging me out of the room. I was thrown into a white room where I was alone. 

"The rebellion is starting and you can't stop it!"  An unfmiliar, low toned voice burst into the room, making me jump and cower in fear. A tall boy with a slim frame and choppy hair was thrown into the back wall and the door was slammed shut. He sat down, head in his hands before turning to me.

"I won't hurt you, you know?" He said, looking at me with warm, brown eyes. I was still wedged in the opposite corner, shivering uncontrollably. I didn't know what to do now that someone was actually interacting with me. As I panicked, I saw his face change as if realization had just hit him in the dace.

"Jesus...You haven't talked to anyone, have you?" He gasped, standing up and looking at me, dumbfounded. I shook my head, my back pressing against the wall.

"How long have you been living...well...like you have?" I shrugged.

"I don't remember...what's happening...where am I....?" He hissed through his teeth and bounded over to me, grabbing my arms and kneeling so our eyes were level.

"You were being brainwashed...The robots, students, teachers were all a set up by the government to make you into another mindless soldier, a pawn in their games..." 

"So there's other....there's others like me? Other classes, people?" I asked, my eyes widened as the information hit me like a tidal wave.

"Yeah. There are."  He nodded, his face solemn.

"What happened? To the people?"

"Some were brainwashed and now work for the government. Some went insane and were....exterminated....others overcame it and were sent to rooms like this...others like you and me! We both overpowered their mind games and were too strong for them!" 

"What happens now?" Fear settled in the pit of my stomach and I wondered if my rebellion was the right thing to do.

"You get put in a room with all the other people like us, where we work. We're worked like slaves, but at least we can talk even though we're trapped..." For a moment, he looked sad, but then he looked back at me with glittering eyes "But that's going to change! There's a rebellion happening as we speak! They're raiding the offices and then we can run away from this! To a better life away from this!"

"What about me...?"

"What do you mean? You can come with me!" The boy smiled as his voice became faster and faster in excitement.

"Really? You mean that? You don't even know me...I don't even know me..." I mumbled. The only identity I had was my number which was stitched onto all my clothing and printed on my books.

"Well, you can be Emma I'm Matt." 

"Emma? Thanks!" I grinned, hugging him as the tears brimming from my eyes cascaded down my cheeks. Matt wiped them with his thumbs and grabbed my hand, encasing it in his own as he took on a running stance.

"They're here." He said, eyeing the door. I followed his line of vision.

"Who?" He turned to look at me and grinned deviously.

"The Rebellion leaders. They've come to save us, I know it. They've overthrown the leaders, now we're free!" He yelled as the door was kicked open. He took off, pulling me with him.

"Keep looking forward and don't look back!" Matt boomed as we passed the gates and entered a town of shocked people who were screaming and running around. Matt and I kept running as the scenes changed from town to countryside to a village and when my legs were shaking with adrenaline and I felt as if I couldn't go on, he picked me up and carried me as we arrived at a village which we decided was far enough. I didn't process the events which happened, but I hoped that when morning came, Matt would still be here to explain The Rebellion to me.