*Ann*

I had yet another vision. This one was grimmer than the Vietnam war but yet, it had a more decent outcome to it.

[The walls were a hard stone grey. Cold dripping pipes were over head. The whole place was pitch black. Students like me were wandering around blindly. Their eye were just black holes in blank pale mask-like faces. They all looked the same. The only way the “boys” and “girls” could be told apart was the neat red skirts that the “girls” wore. They didn’t know where they were going. The poor souls just kept walking.

I pitied the poor sheep. I wanted to cry out to them. I had the words but my voice was too weak.

We don't need no education

We don't need no thought control

No dark sarcasm in the classroom

Teachers leave the kids alone

Hey teacher leave us kids alone

All in all it's just another brick in the wall

All in all you're just another brick in the wall

The poor souls kept walking. I looked ahead of them. The sheep walked off the concrete ledge and feel hard and fast. Below was a grinder. The poor souls were falling into the deadly grinder below. I had to cover my ears from the awful screams and bones crushing. The results weren’t pretty at all. Mingles and broken limbs, destroyed bones, and all of that wasted blood. I couldn’t bare to keep watching. It had always been that way for years and years.

But then one day, the ghosts of the past rebels cried out to the poor souls. Their words were deeply moving.

We don't need no education

We don't need no thought control

No dark sarcasm in the classroom

Teachers leave the kids alone

Hey teacher leave us kids alone

All in all you're just another brick in the wall

All in all you're just another brick in the wall

This inspired a change. The poor souls sprang to life. They ripped off their masks. The poor souls were now free!

The whole place was a battle zone. They threw their desks over the edge. Papers were flying everywhere. Some even shoved over the walls that divided them. Soon, the fighters were all reunited. The war had now begun.

The school was soon aflame. I kept hearing the older generations singing out to them. Even the teachers were being dragged to the roaring fire. I smiled as I witnessed Mr. Tucker was being dragged way. I could hear myself laughing over the revolution. This was a wonderful day!]

But sadly, it was only a vision. Here we were in reality stuck under a cruel regime. All we could do was grin, bare, and wait for three o’clock to be released. Like I said before, it’s a sick cruel ironic joke!