My Dream Journal

The Sixth Form That Ran Away

Me and my friend Eliza trudge through the sixth form to our next class. The staircase is absolutely packed full of people, and suspended in mid-air like something from Harry Potter.

It's so full that no-one can move; we are all just stood still on this huge staircase.

Suddenly, the floor starts to vibrate slightly under our feet, and a few people have to grip the handrail to avoid toppling over. It's hard to keep your balance when you're pressed shoulder-to-shoulder with everyone.

The shaking gets more and more aggressive, soon people are falling over and yelling. And me and Eliza can't go anywhere- we're stuck.

"LOOK!" someone suddenly shouts, pointing to a bright yellow window in the wall opposite us.

My jaw drops. 

Our sixth form is zooming along the street, houses, cars and trees flashing by the small window. How is our entire building simply gliding across the ground like that? It's like it grew legs and ran away.

"It must be an earthquake!" I hear someone yell, but that doesn't make sense.

Eventually, everyone has dispersed enough that me and Eliza have room to walk down the stairs, and bustle for a spot at the window.

A quick look upwards tells me that as well as sliding along the road like an avalanche, our sixth form is also on fire.

People begin screaming as I inform them.

Then among the cars that whip past us, unbothered, I spot something.  A fire engine.

We begin screaming louder, sticking our arms out of the window and waving, hoping to get it's attention. It works. The man driving the engine slows to a stop and we lose sight of him, but he must have done a U-turn because a few seconds later he is driving beside us again, going in the same direction.

A look of shock creeps upon his face. "LOOK OUT!"

We all turn our heads to see what he's pointing at. 

The building we are all trapped in is heading at an unimaginable speed- right towards another flaming building.

We barely have time to react before we smash into it, and the sixth form crumbles down around us.

By the time the noise of the impact has fallen silent, I am miraculously still alive and conscious. Eliza crouches beside me, shielding her head from any falling rubble.

We watch as a group of firemen hop out of the truck and begin pulling children out of the wreckage. 

No-one spots us for a while, so I stick my hand out of that same yellow window and wave it around. Eventually, a man spots us, and drags me out of the ruins.

He then walks me to the front of the fire engine and tells me to get inside, before returning to the flaming building to get Eliza.

I enter a little dark compartment in the side of the truck, and inside is a black-walled room, with nothing but two long black benches on opposite sides, facing each other.

Five or six boys already sit in there, covered in dust and soot. One of them is crying loudly.

After a few seconds, Eliza emerges into the little room and takes the seat opposite me. 

The fire engine begins to drive away; presumably the other compartments are full of kids too now. As we drive, we begin talking to the boys about what we just experienced, and they can't come up with a reasonable explanation either. 

One of them gets out of his seat and starts jumping around on the walls like a hyper toddler, and one of the firemen opens the door and tells him to stop.

The boy sits down, and we all sit in silence, waiting to see where they will take us next...