A scream reverberated throughout the dense forest. In fear, the forest shook; its trees flung its branches in a violent fury and its leaves shuddered in apprehension. The vibrations made by thousands of feet pounding the ground in pursuit of escaping pulsated through my body as I crouched down in the middle of a clearing.
                       

 The scream continued. 
I began to run. Where? I don't know. From what? I couldn’t tell you. I just had to get away from that bloodcurdling wail. Its sound made the hairs on the back of my neck stick out like knives. Each time my foot hit the dirt path, my fear grew.
                   

The wail became louder.

My vision blurred. My movement became sluggish. My perception of the world around me dulled.
           

But the scream remained: crystal clear.

Suddenly the green forest began to fall away at my feet. The dense forest was turning into a dark abyss, and I eventually began to fall as well.
               

The scream became even louder.

Just as I was about to hit the bottom of the abyss, Light poured from above. God? No, it was my incandescent light bulb. It was just a dream and I had just woken up.
                 

 But the scream remained.

In search of its source, I turned my head. There it was, shrieking nightmarishly -my red alarm clock. Memories flooded back into my mind and my brain gave me a summary of my life. It was Thursday. I had school. I had to get up.
                   

The screaming remained.

I threw off my covers and rolled off my bed. I landed on the floor with a thud, right next to my open AP Government textbook and half a cup of cold coffee. I picked myself off the floor and turned off my alarm.
               

Funny, the screaming didn’t stop.

I began to carry on with my day. I went to school, I listened to my teachers, I attended a club, I went to dance practice, I did my homework, I studied, and I finally fell asleep on a textbook.

The screaming never paused.

The screaming never stops. It is always there in the back of my head. I’m not crazy, I assure you. I see it more as an internal clock. It’s like the siren that goes off in my town when the clock hits seven in the evening. It lasts for a minute, irritating everyone in a ten mile radius, but then it stops, allowing the sweet rush of silent bliss to soothe one's ears. My life right now is that minute. A constant repetitive motion. I’m completely replaceable; in another small town on the opposite side of the nation, there could be another kid just like me. Another slave to their responsibilities. Another kid waiting for their sixty second of boredom to run out so that they could break through the glass and do something that would make life the precious time it’s supposed to be, not the dull tick-tock it is today.