There was more to the beginning involving a made for tv movie about highschool track and field murder in Baltimore but it got too twisty to keep up with.
Second act was me driving through mountains to this college orientation. A lot of people showed up on school buses but I didn’t think much of it. I was keeping to myself as usual but was friendly/ happy since I had gotten accepted to this school/ residency program.
I walk around the crowd and sign papers before everyone goes into the auditorium. I get a seat up front so I’m not tempted to be distracted and miss out on something. It’s your normal first day of school routine until the very end.
Then it turns into Jesus camp.
Everyone around me was shouting and praising and I realized I made a terrible mistake. I start wondering if I can deal with it or if my morals will force me to walk out.
I last for a few waves of praise and then my mind is made up. I quietly get up and begin the long walk down the aisle, lined with flailing arms and tearful cries for the holy spirit…
I’m pleased with myself for getting out of this mess but wonder if I can still list my acceptance to the program in my resume. About that time I was halfway to the door when the ring leader sets the crowd loose.
I pick up the pace to get out before anyone questions me why I was leaving early and make it to the lobby just before the wave of eager christian art students crashes down around me.
I realize I have to scratch my name off of the registery or else they will know I ducked out and probably burn me at the stake. I decide a sharpie will not suffice but a can of black spraypaint will.
I feel proud to sabotage the church in my last official act while inside it’s doors. And then I notice the other person who rode the praise wave out early was simalarly scratching her name off of the roster.
It’s a decent opportunity to strike up a conversation, so I do. She’s cute though not entirely my type but I give her points for ditching the crazies. We walk back to the parking lot and I ask her if she came by bus. She says yes but a relative was coming to pick her up.
As we talk I debate with myself wether to talk us both into staying for the sake of bed-funs but the girl starts facebook storytelling about her abusive ex and most of her profile pictures are of him and the only one with her involves a manequin that looks like her. Then she goes off about death and stuff and I’m fairly convinced I’m getting flashbacks to every I’ll concieved bed-friend of my past so I begin the same mental debate on walking away that I had just recently employed for the worship/ orientation.
Only this time I’m bummed to have to do so but know it’s for my own good. I shouldn’t have compromised my instinct to flee the compound for a pretty face.