A catchy song playing in my ears, and a voice sang the message to me. My phone slouched in my pocket, feeding me the music. My confident steps led me to the dreaded prison we call school. My hand lingered on the handle, unsure if I should go in. I was already an hour late and the teacher was sure to hate me.

I pulled the handle.

A rush of cold air hit me in the face, spreading goosebumps up and down my arms and legs. Inside of the school didn't look much better than the outside. Gray paint was plastered onto the cement walls, and the floors were covered in ugly plain tiles. No students were seen other than me, but faded chattering could be heard.

My schedule came to me through the mail. All my classrooms were jumbled up, and I raced throughout the floors to find them. Finally, I found classroom B25. Math.

My ear buds were still in, playing an awesome song as I barged into the classroom. Everyone's eyes fell on me, hoping for a new student, but instead their eyes met mine as their hopes plummeted into a deep hole.

The teacher's scowl motioned for me to take a seat. The only open seat was next to a window. I pulled out the metal chair with an annoying screech. Plopping down, I stared out the window.

School, formally known as The Young Delinquents Treatment Center. I didn't get in, originally, because of my "condition". But my other teachers begged them to take me away. It was at least an hour away from my house. The bus ride was not nearly as boring as class.

I didn't even know I was tapping on my desk until the teacher started breathing heavily beside me. When I turned to face him, he ripped my ear buds from my head. "Pay attention!" He screamed, despite his Hitler styled mustache covering his mouth. Pushing up his glasses, he returned to the front of the room, satisfied and thinking his retort made a difference.

I pushed the ear buds back in, rolling my eyes. Outside, gray clouds flew in, and the soft tapping beat substituted my fingers. But this teacher was determined to break me down. From across the room, he stared me down, giving me an evil glare.

I kept eye contact with the window, watching each cloud come in and push together. Other students started snoring softly in their sleep while some were still fighting the struggle to stay awake. The teacher shook his head disapprovingly.

He went over to each of our desks and shook us, waking the ones sleeping up with a shake. When he got to me, he pulled my ear buds out once again. "Listen. Please."

I turned my phone off for a second. Somehow, this teacher managed to catch my attention. He finished off the rest of the class and stood up again at the front. All eyes were on him, as the class listened, confused as to what was going on. This wasn't normal math.
"Why are you here?" The teacher paused, waiting for us to let the question sink in. "You are all here because you did something that was wrong, but not wrong enough to go to jail. So, let me rephrase that. What did you do?"

What did I do, exactly? It wasn't like I broke the law. There may have been a few days where I took one too many free samples. When I was three, I ate a candy bar before Mom checked out, but she payed for it anyway.

But even through countless schools I couldn't get a single one that ignored my problem. My disorder. It sounds even worse when you talk about it like that. But, why was I here?

It was because of her. She always came so close to crossing the line, then she would go away, leaving me to try to fix everything. The messy blood, the destroyed lives, the blackmail and rumours. And then I would have to finish the job she started.

I was supposed to do something if I felt her coming, but you could never really feel it. She just did. And when you could, she would have just enough control to make sure you didn't stop her. It was like watching a movie, where I was the villain, and my friends were the victums.

Fifteen minutes later, my teacher called us each up to the front of the classroom to share. The first guy who walked up was unfamiliar, and probably joined late. He seemed tall, with dark brown hair. When he was speaking, he made eye contact with me. At least enough to keep me listening. He stole his brother's car and smashed it with a baseball bat. Once he made a mess, he blamed it on his brother's girlfriend, who he planned to get engaged to that night.

The story was probably the most original, and even I couldn't help but smile at it. If you're going to go out, go out with a bang.

The other stories had a theme; petty theft, disobedience, threatening cops and judges. But a few were real shining jewels. One girl kissed her best friend's boyfriend and they never stopped arguing about it, so her teachers sent her away. One guy asked to come to this school because his girlfriend thought he should behave better.

When they got to me, I froze. I didn't know what to say. I didn't know if I could tell them the truth without her coming out, and I was a terrible liar. Instead, I stood up faced my teacher. My hands were trembling. The only person I ever told was my family, and I didn't know how they would react at the time.

"C..Could I please have a pair of handcuffs?" The teacher looked over me, and I was certain he was going to refuse. But then he nodded his head and I returned to my desk. One cuff slipped over my hand, and I tied the other to the chair. Now, the class was safe. Now, I could start talking.

I took a deep breath. The class was still, staring at me with confusion. No one had ever asked to get locked up. The silence filled the air, until I shattered it. "I came here because I have a mental disorder."
"What do you think you're doing, princess?"
I could hear the voice in my head. I didn't know if she was speaking out loud. I continued anyway.
"Split personalities. I've only got two, as far as I can tell, but the other is....deadly."
"You're an idiot if you think they are going to listen to you."
"I was in second grade, and my best friend and I weren't speaking to each other."
"She wouldn't have made it through school if it wasn't for me."
I felt my mouth twitch, as if she was trying to smile. My heart started racing and slowing down uncontrollably. I looked down to the floor.
"I didn't know what was happening. I thought I was dreaming, but it felt so real. I was drowning her, in a fountain, a little bit farther from the entrance. I didn't want to, but she did."
"And it felt good. Don't forget to mention that."
Now I could hear her. I let her take control.
She tried to escape, cursing at the handcuffs. She smiled towards me and I tried to look away. She returned to trying to pick the lock as the other students backed away.

Her smile left and a scorn replaced it. Her eyes were cold. She didn't have the key. She couldn't get out, even if she wanted to. The girl who stood before me screamed and cried out for any way to escape. I forced her away, saving the kids in my class from a hundred terrible insults, and tried to regain control of me.

Once I was back I sat down, and pushed my head against the desk, bot wanting to see the terrified expressions on their faces. Even the stern teacher let me continue listening to music. The ear buds were pressed back into my ears till lunchtime.

The bell rang and I walked out of class. I couldn't help but notice how the students cautiously stayed even farther away then they used to. Good for them. I reached my table, my appetite gone, and sat down while everyone else went to go get their lunch. Tears clouded my vision, threatening to spill, but I tried to push them back. 'The Crying Murderer' is the last thing I need to be called right now.

Suddenly, two trays plopped down beside me. The guy, from earlier had a beaming smile on his face. He pushed one tray over to me, with loads of different options of food on it.
"I didn't know what you would like, so I got a bit of everything."
"Thanks." I mumbled under my breath.
Quickly, about three other people sat beside me. Two I recognized from class, but I didn't remember seeing the last one.

"Oh, uh, that's Greg. The other two are Amelia and Derek, from class. I'm Daniel, by the way."

"My name's Lilah." I stared up at him. Why would he want to be seen with me?

"You know, we might have screwed up, but we messed up in a cool way, ya know?" I almost smiled at his enthusiasm.

The girl, Amelia, did smile. "Yep, I guess we did."

I grabbed the bottled water from my tray and held it up, a smile beaming at these new friends. "To going out with a bang!"
We all bumped our drinks together and took a sip. For the rest of the lunch period, I actually felt happier than I did for a long time. These new friends helped me, and I helped them. I never heard from her ever again. That dreaded day at school turned into the best day of my life.