School 4

Now cut to a corridor or something, inside the school. Upon the wall there's a big fat roundfaced dull metal bell. The sound it makes has actually been designed to be the most dreadful heartfluttering sound in the world, to the kids inside. It's shiny and fat and looks as grim and functional as a death's head, utterly dumb and the most secret and horrid of inventions.
When its glicked-up clockhead toll is rung off, the dingled fatly struck bang vibrates with such a huge and tingled alarm that it screams like a banshee a massive horrific yell of death which can be heard all over the surrounding suburb and fields like an insane call to arms, a schoolbell, an obscene invention.
The same bring summoned cattle to death in insistent slaughterhouses run by bureaucrats. Bell ringers are wideyed and panicked and run around insisting on timetables like hypermonks of corporate mechanised death, summons the doomed kids to their individual follies.
But this time the kids are glad cause it means release for breaktime, they'll squall wildly and glad in the sodden schoolyard.
Robert comes outside at breaktime, with his pale and langrous jacket and his spotty cheek. He comes out mournfully breathing smokes, carrying his bag, big red shiny bag, goes over to the hangout alcove to lean against a grimy wall. Does nothing, simply breathes fumes from nostrils. His subtly reddish frizzed and shortcut hair, maybe he's sitting on the coldstone step in his black flannelled trousers, involved in some intense and clever thought. To do with dismal fresh winter plyaground. He chats neutrally to his peaceful friends like he does every day and maybe flips out a glossy teen mag to look at the screenshots, thick numb fingers slicking the screenprint pages.
Robert yawns and frowns in his greensleeve cotton jacket, thinks of home again, glumly. Cheerful and devilish he tells his friends he's thinking of taking a week off before Christmas.
But the bell is made out of metal and set in the wall. Only has one voice. The kids are recaptured again by that same maniac awful trill. Everybody immediately knows how doomed they are when they hear that sound.
Breaktime Robert heads for his next class skinny and resigned.