I am not a sheep. I do not bleat, I am not stupid, and I refuse to make wool. The only thing I have in common with the animal is that I am surrounded by wolves. Except a sheep among wolves is soon a dead sheep, and I am obviously neither dead nor a sheep.

But it's only a matter of time.

It has been one week to date since I started attending Lakewood Academy, the exclusive all-boys' school. I'd like to tell you where it is, but, in order to protect my identity and those of my peers, I have changed everyone's name. The school isn't even called Lakewood.

Whatever its name may be, this school is beautiful. Brick and old looking, it stands nobly at the base of a large hill. A clear lake, with waters so serene that they look made of glass, is only a ten minute walk from the main building, the grounds seem to spread on forever. Even the students look dignified, dressed in the uniform of black slacks, white button-down shirts, black shoes, and red ties. To an outsider, and even most insiders, Lakewood is a perfect place, turning boys into men and preparing them for life. There's only one problem. I'm not a boy. And, even after a week, nobody knows it.

Like I said, it's only a matter of time.