A collection of considerably large mortar and brick interconnected structures standing behind an imposing, yet oddly elegant metal gate; this was the site greeting me upon arriving at the destination known only as “School”. As I gape at the building before me, several people dressed in the same style of clothes as me begin to flood into the gateway; heading towards these buildings. Their expressions range from the serene, to the occasional panic, and everything in between; only serving to confuse my assumptions about the purpose of this establishment. With a now cautious step, my approach towards this unnerving place almost comes to a crawl. As if it was a sign from our creator himself urging me to push forward, out from the corner of my eye, I spot my best friend; walking past me, approaching the daunting buildings with a group of friendly people as though it was nothing out of the ordinary. Impressed by his courageous will, I banish all thoughts of fear and march onward; entering the school building with an unparalleled determination.

Following the crude signage posted upon the interior walls, I, along with the rest of the people who walked into the building, arrive in a massive room with many chairs facing a peculiar upraised floor. Calmly taking a seat in an empty chair, just as those who came before me, my curiosity all but reaches its peak. However, before I have the chance to ponder why we are gathered here, the lights in the room begin to dim. All of our eyes are suddenly drawn to several bright beams of light basking a wooden pillar standing in the center of the upraised floor before us, a single man stands behind the pillar; my eyes widen with shock. Welcoming me and the others to this bizarre gathering of people was my best friend, standing atop the raised floor, behind the pillar of wood. My mind is flooded with memories of this facility as he begins to speak about our past years attending this school; I am all but overcome with joyous recollections of the past adventures me and my best friend have had here as the meeting comes to an end. We are then escorted out of the massive room and into the school’s system of hallways, where everyone goes their separate directions.

It doesn’t take long for my body to instinctively carry me to my destination, my “homeroom”. Entering the room, I am greeted by several familiar faces; I exchange a greeting with them, just as the script says, before walking to my desk. Finding a reprieve, I check the script once more; thoughts of concern begin to fill my head as I come to the realization that the script has almost reached its end. Abruptly slamming open the door to my homeroom and disrupting both my train of thought and the tranquil atmosphere was my best friend; gloating about how moving his speech at the “Assembly” was. I found it rather amusing as our “teacher” snappily ushered him to his seat without an ounce of remorse. His eyes settled upon me as he dejectedly walked to his seat, meeting mine for only the briefest of moments as he passed me by; he said with a smile “Glad to see you haven’t lost your sense of humor.” And with that, the script has ended. I energetically try to respond to him; however, nothing but air escapes my lips. It was then I realized: I’m physically unable to speak outside of our creator’s script… Not wanting to possibly damage the vision our creator has for our future, I begrudgingly decide to hold my tongue until the next script arrives.