The Outliers

Chapter Seven | Rehabilitation

Copyright 2014 All Rights Reserved

Detention By Claire Chilton

Chapter Seven | Rehabilitation

Emily Mainston stared at the television with wide eyes. The news crew were filming a riot at the Cleaner's Reformatory for Adolescent Purification. Guards were hanging upside down from windows, tied by their ankles with bed sheets. Kids were running riot all over the building, hanging from windows and waving mops in the air.

The camera zoomed in on a burly guard, who stared blankly around as he hung upside down from a barred window, swaying in the breeze. Next, the camera scanned the front of the building, pausing when it came to the receptionists who were tied to the flagpole in their underwear. They were both loudly cursing at the camera.

Her pulse raced. Where's Carla? Is she okay?

The camera zoomed to a balcony where a teenage boy was screeching out some kind of loud music that even made Emily want to rebel for a moment. He was impressive to watch as he pumped his fist in the air to the growing mass of teenage girls below him, who were all screaming his name.

Shaking her head, she scanned the building. Where was her daughter? She snatched her keys off the table beside her. She needed to make sure Carla was okay.

As the camera spanned the front of the building, she froze, tightening her hand around the sharp keys.

Her eyes locked on her purple daughter, who stood proudly on top of a bed at the front doors of the institute. Carla was standing on top of a stretcher, towering over the man who lay on the bed. Her foot was on his chest, pinning him down. Her lilac skin glowed with triumph as she pumped her fist in the air. Behind her, an army of teenagers cheered as the building behind them was left in ruins.

What is she doing? I'm going to kill her!

***

Carla narrowed her eyes at the road ahead, and she folded her arms. "I did the right thing."

"The right thing?" Her mother shot her an annoyed glance. The judge who sentenced you was just disbarred, and he lost custody of his son!"

"He shouldn't have locked his son in prison then, should he? Jeremy's aunt seemed really nice, and Jeremy was happy!" Carla snapped.

"His aunt has pink hair!" her mother cried.

"I liked it," Carla muttered.

"It's pink!" Her mother slammed her foot on the accelerator, and the car sped up.

"You'd have liked it if it was green." Carla scowled at the road ahead.

"The institute got shut down. Do you have any idea what you have done?" Her mother gripped the steering wheel so tightly that her knuckles whitened.

"Hmm, let me think, didn't I just save a load of kids from wrongful imprisonment and a lobotomy?" Carla shook her head.

"There calling that music rock, and it's going on the radio. It'll be everywhere. It'll corrupt our entire society."

"Good!" Carla cried. "I hope it rips the crap out of our society and makes it better!"

"You don't understand how this world works. You can't just change things without losing something special." Her mother glanced at her, and there was a look of concern in her eyes. "People will be watching you now."

Carla frowned. "What people?"

Her mother clenched her jaw. "The neighbors! How will I go to the rotary club after this?"

Carla rolled her eyes. According to her mother, the neighbors were the only opinion that mattered. She drowned out her nagging as she watched the scenery passing by the car. She didn't care what her mother said. She'd done the right thing and made some great new friends along the way. Plus, there were scientists now working on how to restore the Oogs into being normal people again.

Nick Rancy had been arrested for crimes against children. His crazy experiments were over, and now he had a cell of his own in a high-security prison. Meanwhile, Jeremy had been offered a record deal, and he was now living with his crazy aunt. As results went, it was a win for everyone.

Carla glanced at her mother. She loved her mother, but she was wrong about this. Sometimes, the world needed a change. Sometimes, it was the only way to evolve.

"At least if I walk mud on Mrs. Bailey's carpet again, I know how to use a stain devil to clean it off with this time," Carla said, hoping to appease her mother.

Her mother sighed. "Can't you just try not to commit crimes instead?"

"I can try." Carla shrugged. "But I can't make any promises." She smiled as they pulled up outside their house. It was good to be home. It was good to be free.

The End