Prelude
"The fate of our country won't be decided on a battlefield, it will be determined in a classroom." –Waiting for 'Superman' (2010)
They weren't always this way.
Many recalled a time when their smiles lit up the world, when their laughter was contagious, and when their hearts were bigger than the English sky. They were still innocent. It was a time and place not far from now, but it felt like a million years ago.
With their gaunt expressions and tired eyes, they exhibited an air of depression; their weariness of the world was written plain across their faces. No one could withstand the erosion of time, but these children were weathered far too soon, aged beyond their years… Although they had no visible scars, they could be mistaken for war veterans.
Few people knew the reasons for their change, even fewer bothered to notice the change. Or maybe they did notice—they just didn't care enough to help. It happens to everyone, they say, what makes them so special? And so our society tore them limb from limb while war had set fire and burned their remains. After death they haunted themselves, inner demons refusing to let the children forget their sins. Maybe they're masochists, and maybe they deserve it, or maybe it took more strength than they had to forgive, but in the end… They're just children.
a/n: Hi guys! Thanks for reading, this is the first little bit of a story that has been plaguing my mind for a while now. I promise the rest will be longer, the prologue is well...just a prologue! Please drop a review, they really do help me as a writer. And if you do leave feedback, know that I will love you eternally!
Melodies