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Nowhere to Go but Forward
I wish something exciting would happen. Once again, I glance at the clock on the wall. One hour until the end of history class. One more hour of listening to Mr. Marsh drone on and on about the woes that befell the early American colonists. It is downright depressing stuff. This man died from diphtheria, another village was massacred by Indians, and so on. Not like anybody cares. The only thing that seems mildly fascinating is the Salem Witch Hunts, which we won't cover until next week.
With a sigh, I rest my head on my desk and allow my eyelids to droop shut. Mr. Marsh's voice gradually fades to a dull buzz in the background, and then nothing.
I awake with a start. Disoriented, I gaze around, and after several seconds, it dawns on me that I am completely alone. None of my fellow classmates are nearby. Even the school itself is gone. Where there once was a classroom crammed with desks, chairs, and children, now there is only empty space. I am literally sitting at a lone desk in the middle of a grassy clearing.
What the heck is going on? Maybe I am dreaming. I pinch myself as hard as I can, and it stings. Yet, I am still where I was before, on a tiny island in a sea of yellowed grass.
What do I do now? I scan the horizon for any signs of life and catch sight of a pillar of smoke billowing above a cluster of trees. Definitely manmade. Perhaps whoever is out there can help me get my bearings back.
I walk away from my desk and experience a moment's sensation of panic. I am leaving the only tie to the world I had known my entire life, the world I had always taken for granted. What if this was not dream? What if I am stuck here forever? How will I ever return home?
I square my shoulders and force myself to turn away from my desk. There is nothing to gain from panicking, I tell myself. The only way to go is forward. Determined, I head towards the distant smoke, not once looking back.
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