The clear, sharp tone of a bell rips through the hallway swamped by hundreds of teenagers.   The swarm of students move among the maze and soon there is only one left to face a daunting task.  The small girl holds a crumpled paper and as she begins to trudge forward it falls, useless, from her grip. The hallways loom before her, growing ever longer.  Like a rat caught in a maze, she wanders the endless corridors; only with no prize awaiting her at the end. 
She stops suddenly, glaring at the tiles as if they had personally offended her.  This hallway looks familiar.  Too familiar.  She’s been here before.  The hallway grows darker and she turns around, takes a step back, then changes her mind and turns around again.  Of all the times to be indecisive!
Deep mummers ring out from under the closed doors.  Young face peer out from the glass, staring longingly at the freedom the maze promises.  Their eyes bore into the girl as she passes, eyes that plea for help as a snarling teacher pushes equations under their noses.  “Twenty more pages for homework,” He barks, “And no Jimmy! You may not go to the bathroom.”  Young Jimmy slumps, defeated, back into his chair. 
Another terrified child scurries past the girl in the hall.  “Hey!” She calls, her voice echoing in the vastness.  The child does not stop.  He scampers on, determined to reach his destination.  “Hey! Wait!”
The boy freezes and then slowly turns around.  The girl gasps when she sees him.  He’s hunched over, with large teeth and an elongated face.  His nose twitches nervously and his beady eyes sweep the hallway urgently.  “What do you want?” He snaps, coiling in on himself.
“I’m lost.” The girl explains frantically.  She does not step closer.  “Please, do you know where room 302 is?”
The once-boy stares at her.  “Up the stairs, to the left, down the hall, last door on your right.” He muttered under his breath.  The girl attempts to say thank you, but the boy is already gone, scurrying deeper into the maze.    
And so, the girl turns and follows the once-boy’s instructions.  Up the stairs she climbs, slowly as the weight of the stairs weigh down her thighs.  To the left, the girl turns and stares at the impossibly long corridor.  One foot in front of the other, one foot in front of the other, she chants as she trudges down the darkening hallway. 
The door looms before her, the brass 302 staring at her accusingly.  She can hear the low scratch of pencils from beneath the door.  The high screech of the teacher rings out through the corridor.  “Do problems one through one hundred!”  This simple sentence sent a spark down the student’s backs, forcing them to sit up straight and continue working although their hands were cramped.   
The girl took a deep breath and grabs the handle which is icy to the touch.  Slowly the girl opens the door before darting into the dusty room.  She collapses into a rickety desk in the back of the room; her maze complete.  A shiver shoot down her spine as she feels cold eyes turn toward her.  The old teacher snarls at her from the front of the room; her entrance has not gone unnoticed.  The teacher slithers down the aisle, creeping her way closer and closer to the girl.
She stops before the quaking student.  Glaring down the bridge of her thin nose the teacher’s high voice rang out, “You’re late.” Before dropping an oily pink slip onto the girl’s desk.   “See me after school for the next three days.”