"Miss Bishop, ready for your detention?" asks Mrs Mills.

"Yes Miss." I say bluntingly.

"Ok good, take a seat." Mrs Mills motions to an isolated table and seat for me to sit at. I reluctantly put my bag down and sit down.

The air in the room is cold, almost freezing, due to the strong air blowing from the air con. All but 1 curtain is shut, making the room a lot darker than it should be, even with a few lights on. It's almost like Mrs Mills wants to make the room feel tense and creepy.

"Now, we will first begin by writing lines. Write, 'I will not speak in class without permission' 50 times in you exercise book. Any sentence which is not written neatly or without correct spelling must be rewritten, then we shall move on to the next part."

The next part?! As if 50 lines wasn't enough. But, instead of talking back, I obediently nod my head and say, "Yes miss."

I take my exercise book out of my bag and start writing. Eventually I do 25 lines. The same sentence stretches out on my book neatly, much neater than how I would normally write. My hand aches from all the writing and I put down my pen to give my hand a short break.

"Hurry up Miss Bishop." Says Mrs Mills sternly, "We don't have all day."

I just realised how often she calls me by my last  name, instead of just my first name.

She's glaring at me harshly, but deep in her eyes is a sinister look. I'm starting to worry. She's not acting normal, which is strange considering that her 'normal' is already weird.

Eventually, I complete all the  50 lines.

"Very good, Bishop." Says Mrs Mills. She didn't even say 'miss' at the start. And the way she said my surname gives me shivers, she just spat it out. She must really despise me.

"Now we shall move on to part 2. Part 2, is called The Talk. Nobody can know about The Talk."

I nod, not daring to disagree with my teacher.

"Now, we shall begin The Talk. Why are you in detention in the first place?"

Oh no, this is 'The Talk'. One of those boring, reflective talks about a student's behaviour. I guess I'll just play along.

"I spoke without permission in class." I say expressionlessly.

"Yes, what did you speak so passionately about?"

I hesitate for a moment, what should I say? What will get me out of here the quickest?

Slowly, I speak, "I said that the protest against the CSPP had good reasoning for it."

"And..?" She asks.

"And...I was very wrong, I now understand that." This isn't right, why does Mrs Mills trust the CSPP so much? Why is she pretty much enforcing me to say these things? I hate it, this stands against  everything I believe with the CSPP.

Secretly, I'm a big history nerd. I've done lots of research on the CSPP, and personally, I think that there is suspicious behaviour around it. It's extremely difficult for me to be speaking good of the CSPP when I don't trust them at all.

"Very good, so, what have you learnt from detention?

I luckily managed to refrain from saying my own personal beliefs and reply in a monotonous voice, "I learnt that I should only speak in class with permission and that the protests against the CSPP and their theories are lies which were created only to disrupt public peace."

She nods once again, smiling sweetly. I assume that's a symbol for me to be able to leave, so I begin to pack my bag when she shouts, "WAIT!" fiercely. I instantly stop what I'm doing and face forward towards the whiteboard.

Out of the corner of my left eye, I see Mrs Mills walk towards the only open curtain, the curtain which allows any students from the corridor to see me, or me see them. She then shuts the curtain, making the classroom even darker. She makes her way back to the light switches, I'm shaking with fear. Is she finally going to murder me?

She slowly turns off 2 out of the 3 lights which were previously on, leaving only one light on, the one which mainly spotlights on me. She turns towards me, walking, step by step, taking her time.

I'm starting to sweat, my body temperature rises. Why? What does she want?! When she reaches my desk, she bends down so her face is next to mine. Her short curly, blonder hair tickles the side of my head, making me want to giggle. Great timing.

She breathes in, then breathes out, I feel her shallow breath blow against my ear. Then she finally whispers straight into my ear, "You are good at deceiving people, Bishop."

"Miss?" Why do I say 'Miss'? She is clearly married as her pronoun is Mrs...isn't she?

Mrs Mills continues on, "But, I would stop whatever research you may be doing...and turn your beliefs into mine."

How does she know about my research? I slightly turn my head, but she moves so that her mouth is still at my ear.

"Don't act innocent with me Bishop. You are a bright young girl, I won't deny that, but don't tread to far, it would be...unfortunate...if something happened to you."

Is she threatening me? What is happening?

"Forget what you currently think about the CSPP, permanently change your thoughts into what you recently told me. Then, we will leave you be. But, any suspicious behaviour, our eyes will turn back to you. Understand?"

I gulp and nod my head. She suddenly, aggressively grabs my chin, holding it tight and moves her mouth even closer to my ear. "We never had The Talk."

She lets go of my chin then leaves the classroom, leaving me shocked.

We never had the talk. Then, we will leave you be. Our eyes will turn back to you.

Those few lines from The Talk ring through my head.

Our. We. Our. We. The Talk.

Plurals. They are plurals. It's not Mrs Mills coming after me, it's a group of people much stronger. And nobody knows that I love history, nobody. So, how did she know?