*set ignore_past true

My ears are immediately assaulted by a sharp screech from all directions, scrambling my thoughts and leaving a sharp ringing in my head, such as the type you hear when a fragmentation grenade blows through the wall you are taking cover behind or when a sniper bullet flies right by your ear. Right away I'm suspecting sonic weaponry, non-lethal and within the hearable sound spectrum. Given that it clearly isn't meant to incapacitate me, it is probably a type of diversion tactic for a larger force. The sound lasts less than a second but leaves me disoriented for a half-second longer after it has ended, as it has with the rest of the student body. After regaining awareness, I immediately turn toward the window; I slam my elbow into it with the greatest amount of force that I can muster in my weakened state, and succeed in leaving a large crack in it.

I wind up for a second strike, when I notice the sharp sound has been replaced by speaking, "Sorry! Sorry! My mistake! We're, uh, having some...technical difficulties!" I trace the voice to several large speakers scattered around the room, given their positioning, it would be impossible to find whoever was actually speaking...if he wasn't standing in front of the room, holding up his hands and trying to get everyone's attention, "Right, so...test? Yes, this appears to be working now...Hello students, new and returning!"

The man at the podium addresses himself as Principal Gardner, the overseer of the school. He then proceeds to thank us for crowding up the hallways and using up taxpayer dollars (not in those exact words mind you) and that he hoped we all had a great year. After that, he went on to explain what the function of a school was, which I thought was particularly redundant seeing as how we were all here and thus had probably all been briefed on what a school was for.
*page_break Next
After determining that he had nothing important to say, I began inspecting the elbow I attempted to use for my escape attempt. It appeared that there was some broken skin but nothing that would be noticeable with my sleeve rolled down. Not enough blood to seep through, and the cut would begin scabbing over and mending itself before the day was over so there wasn't much point in getting it treated.

The cracked window would be much harder to mend. One more strike and I probably would have broken through, or failing that at least weaken it enough to jump through. The damage is quite noticeable. Luckily the CIA set money aside to deal with these kinds of damages.

After a short while, the principal finally closes his speech with instructions to pick up our schedules on the way out and get to our first hour in a timely manner. I suppose this is when the school day actually begins...
*page_break First hour...
*goto_scene 1-4first-1
	1st hour: Family and Consumer Science

	2nd hour: Personal Finance

	3rd hour: Algebra

	4th hour: Art

	5th hour: Language Arts

	Lunch

	6th hour: Psychology/Sociology

	7th hour: History

	I look at the paper carefully, memorizing its contents; supposedly, this would be my schedule for the rest of the year. It didn't seem all that different from the duty roster they would place in the mess hall.

	I study the door in front of me that supposedly led to my first class. It's a sturdy wooden door like the others in the building with creaky hinges and dirty doorknob. Taking a short second to listen, I can hear the sounds of 12...no, 13 pairs of footsteps walking around inside, the majority of them being light and young sounding. There are voices too, but I can't make out what they're saying. None of them seem to be waiting in ambush; there's no formation, and none of them sound battle-ready. Determining that I at least have a high chance of surviving going through the door, I go through the door.