Its the kind of dream that twists you awake, caught in it's chilling grasp, the only escape being the darkness of the room which consumes. The deep thudding of a heartbeat in the otherwise silent room as fears and unheard screams become much more then just thoughts. Much more then the wisps of dreams, nightmares, but real life terror. And then... it all goes away with the flick of a lightswitch, objects that were childhood monsters once again becoming all too familiar. The kind of dreams that still haunt you when you've gone past the kid-stage of being frightened by what's on TV. Now you're afraid because you know it's real.

The dreamy hazel eyes flicked lazily between the window and the blackboard. Hands that were pale on top, and even paler underneath, held a black pencil that roamed across the paper. Half legibal letters and words marching along at a stumbling determined beat. Chapped lips were pulled into a loose semblance of a smile, a smile that wasn't reflected in the dreamy gaze. Thin brown eyebrows barely arched over the hazel orbs, not quite matching the light brown hair pushed behind ears with too many piercings. A pink kitten's tongue danced across the lips, allowing a small breath to escape, almost a sigh.
The disinterested gaze fell on the glass windows, cracked and dirty. The pencil stopped midway across the paper, as she watched a bird flying. Each flap of the crow's wings drew her in, the magical flight gifted to those lucky enough to experience it. The pencil began to move again, only this time in short jerking motions. Sketching. A pale bird appeared on the blue striped white paper, between the notes and the margin. A crow by the looks of it, only this one wasn't flying. The wings were spread at tortured angles, feet curled into what looked much like fists clenched in futality. The eye managed a glazed look, but perhaps it was just the pencil getting dull. The neck however, was turned at a sick angle, slightly bunched under the feathers in some places. Broken.
The limp smile pulled across her pale face, the lips cracking and bleeding. It was a pleased smile, at the artwork that lay in the near the margin. The sharp crack followed by a hideous squeak brought the class back to the board. The teacher's chalk had broken and left jagged line of white across the black. The girl's smile abruptly vanished and her hands went back to taking the notes, birds forgotten.

"Do you like birds?" hazel eyes darted to the side, losing their dreamyness, only to meet a pair of laughing brown eyes framed by dark lashes. She found herself studying the person before her, taking in the kahki cargo pants, slim waist and loose black button-up. Her eyes then traveled up to the slightly pointed chin, pronounced cheekbones and wide smile. The other waited patiently, the only sign of impatience was the tanned fingers running through the short hair that matched the chocolate eyes.
"Yes," she answered, shutting her notebook, having been unaware of the end of class.
"My names Miki, Miki Kijane,"
"Nice to meet you," she replied with just the right amount of polieteness, "I am Alison Katsborough," Miki extended a hand, meant for a shake, but Alison merely looked at it. Some of the lines that ran across it, she was sure, were not lifelines, nor wrinkles. But Miki didn't seem worried, or upset by the refusal to shake. Instead, the brown haired teen turned offering one last smile.
"See you round, Ali Kat," She just watched, fingers pressing into the hard black of her notebook. As she gathered her things, carefully placing them into her blue backpack she kept repeating the words to herself in her head. Ali Kat. Ali Kat. Ali Kat. Alley Cat. Alison smiled.