I was particularly feeling like the walls were closing in on the day I wrote this. Yes, I realize that it is not much different from my other FictionPress offerings.



The walls of the Catholic school I attend are beige with a navy blue trim, the perfect combination of hues that, if stared at too long, induces a state of boredom that could easily be mistaken for a coma by those not able to recognize it. If a student is left alone in a classroom for any sufficient period of time, he or she might possibly begin to wonder: **Was I lied to? Am I in a school or a prison?**

I cannot answer for any others who have asked this question, but I can give my own answer to this question, and that happens to be that I am an inmate in a prison thinly disguised as a school. I have been shackled to this religion called Catholicism, a system of beliefs that I do not assume to be true. But whenever I try to escape this religion I have been chained to, the shackles dig deeper. But they are the administration and they will it and I - I am but a teenager - who am I to question them? For surely they know best.

At the very least, in another three years, I shall have served my sentence in this prison. But I wonder what will be left of my spirit when my sentence ends?