The Rebelion

I am in a university somewhere like Oxford or Cambridge. (I think its one of these because the architecture is so grand and oppressive and impressive).

I am in a science class. (I think its science because its all about rational thinking.) We are preparing for exams, and I have been in the bad books with my teachers because I don't write the answers that they want to hear. I can't help my brain from thinking about things my own way and then writing about it the way I think about it.

I am now in the exam. There is this one question, (i wish I could remember what it was...) that was clearly written in a way so that you if you gave anything but the black and white answer you would get it wrong (most of the questions were like this..) and it made me feel so angry that things were so black and white that I wrote in big letters across the paper, something like "you want me to say this.... but you can't exclude peoples feelings out of the answer, because feelings are real too."

I then went on to answer any other question that annoyed me with a similar kind of attitude, and wrote from my heart exactly what I thought about each question in turn.

When I got the exam marks back, I had failed. They had gone even further than failing me.  They gave me the paper back, and each page which I had written on emotionally written (poetically written) answers, they had taken out entirely.

I started to go into a rage. I started yelling and screaming random noises, releasing a possessive spirit that felt trapped inside me. I was spinning in circles in the big hall, and coughing and spluttering out garbled sounds which scared the people around me. I had a divided attention. I was aware that I was looking quite crazy to onlookers, and thought to myself that if I didn't sort out my behaviour, I ran the risk of getting myself locked up.

I decided to try to find my way outside, because once outside, the fresh air and green might calm me down. I had to get out of here, this soul destroying prison both internally and externally.

I eventually found my way into a room where Christopher Mason was. He was part of a Christian group, and they welcomed me in, but I took no notice of them. I found my way to a door, and was then out in the open air.

 I calmed down.

 I tried to get out of the grounds, but the gates were locked. There was hundreds of people walking about, and they were annoying me, I felt over crowded and hemmed in.

I needed to think of another plan, so I came up with the idea to disguise myself as a stone statue, to act a stone statue and then no one would notice me, and I would have fun trying to do it. I took my top off, and was then wearing just shorts. I found someone working in stone, and got a load of stone dust off them and started throwing it all over me and rubbing it on my skin , so that I had a stoney colour.

I stood very still by one of the pillars and waited. It started to work, as people noticed me less and less, and my awareness expanded, and I calmed down.