Chief piece - Goddard

As someone who is currently suffering from Schizophrenia, I’ve been invited by a school named Kingswood Oxford to deliver a speech regarding my experiences with electric shock therapy.

Upon my arrival,  I’m already overwhelmed by the frenzy of students and teachers who begin to approach in order to welcome me to the school.  However, their ceaseless appreciation only precipitates the turmoil of thoughts coursing through my head; look at those penetrating eyes, piercing right through that petty mask of yours. They know you’re paranoid, they only invited you so they could expose  you for who you really are, a paranoid, psychotic, liar . . . You know it’s the truth.  

In response to the sudden silence that befell those accompanying me, a teacher opted to guide me over to a building they referred to as a cafeteria. Ensuing my entrance into the cafeteria, I immediately encountered a flurry of students, anxiously bustling around like well oiled machines, exhaust excreting from their internal motors. In the distance, I glimpsed a long line stretching seamlessly over the newly waxed floor, swaying back and forth like the slithering of a snake. Cautious not to disrupt such a beauty of it all, I carefully infiltrated the body of the snake. Following entering into the snake, I eventually reached the a fork in the road, in which the snake diverged into two separate beings. Not knowing which line to follow, and too afraid to ask, I silently shadowed the person in front of me, mirroring his every move. When it came time to select my meal, I felt as if the eyes of the lunch lady was beating down in my soul, her nose discerning my utter confusion. In a state of panic, I quickly extended my finger and pointed to the nearest food in front of me, a Philly cheese steak. Satisfied with my impulsive choice, I continued to follow the boy out of the underpass, and back into the main cafeteria.

Next challenge, finding a place to sit.