It begins when the school bell tolls at 3:15pm exactly, though the building itself hasn't been in use for ninety or so years. There just weren't enough children in the area, not since the mines began collapsing causing most of the town to be declared too unstable to live on.
Still humans are and always will be creatures of habit, keeping to their old schedules long after their bodies are gone and so the children went to school every weekday, returning to wherever their homes once were at the school bell's toll.
People used to gather around to watch their lifeless shadowy figures chase each other about as they gradually made their way down the hill before separating at their former doorsteps. Most were still houses, carefully preserved for the parade of little ghosts while others had fallen into the old mine-shafts and were little more than rocky dips surrounded by tarmac and carelessly cordoned off.
Some of the children would act out their old routines of doing homework or rushing upstairs to play with old toys (even if their homes had long since fallen) while others, slightly older and larger than the rest, would just stand and look around them.
It was as if they were trying to remember what they were doing or perhaps they were physically stuck in their route but completely conscious of their state of departure and, having no other option, were left to contemplate their predicament indefinitely.
At 8:30am sharp, the school bell tolls and all the dead children rush to get into school, seeming to vanish as soon as their feet pass the threshold. It isn't known if they are still taught or if they even exist once inside the building.
It is wondered if they will ever rest.
Still humans are and always will be creatures of habit, keeping to their old schedules long after their bodies are gone and so the children went to school every weekday, returning to wherever their homes once were at the school bell's toll.
People used to gather around to watch their lifeless shadowy figures chase each other about as they gradually made their way down the hill before separating at their former doorsteps. Most were still houses, carefully preserved for the parade of little ghosts while others had fallen into the old mine-shafts and were little more than rocky dips surrounded by tarmac and carelessly cordoned off.
Some of the children would act out their old routines of doing homework or rushing upstairs to play with old toys (even if their homes had long since fallen) while others, slightly older and larger than the rest, would just stand and look around them.
It was as if they were trying to remember what they were doing or perhaps they were physically stuck in their route but completely conscious of their state of departure and, having no other option, were left to contemplate their predicament indefinitely.
At 8:30am sharp, the school bell tolls and all the dead children rush to get into school, seeming to vanish as soon as their feet pass the threshold. It isn't known if they are still taught or if they even exist once inside the building.
It is wondered if they will ever rest.
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