The Outliers

Legacy | Chapter Three

Copyright 2014 All Rights Reserved

Legacy By Claire Chilton

Chapter Three | Kalamarian Encounters

Carla stormed her way down a muddy slope to the local park, fuming with anger and frustrated over her powerlessness. The hill was a slimy swamp of mud due to the extensive rain earlier that day, but she marched down without a care, distracted by her anger.

"Flaming idiots!" she muttered as she stamped down the hill, hating people, hating school, hating Derobmi-hating everything!

Wrapped up in her fury and not paying attention to her footing, her foot slip over a muddy rock just before her feet flew out from beneath her. She frantically waved her arms in the air, trying to stop herself falling-too late.

She tumbled down the hill in a muddy ball and came to an unceremonious stop on the soft and squelchy ground, landing flat on her back.

"Bloody Dumfollab!" She shouted at the sky, blaming the planet for everything that was wrong in her world.

"I hate this place," she moaned, picking herself up off the ground and glancing down at the wet, muddy mess running down her clothes.

Bowing her head in defeat and expelling a loud sigh, she began brushing off as much mud as she could from her clothes.

Was life always going to be this awful? At fifteen, she was tired of trying and failing. She was tired of feeling helpless in a world of constant disappointment. But mostly, she was tired of everything going wrong. Even when she tried her very best, something always happened to mess it all up.

She walked toward the broken-down, old bandstand, which was hidden away at the back of the park, out of sight and out of mind.

She liked the bandstand for many different reasons. It was nice and quiet, secluded from the rest of the world. But more importantly, it was her place.

Ropey and falling apart with broken beams in the roof and chipped dirty mosaics in its central floor, the bandstand was lost in time. It was different from the rest of the park, which was so perfectly manicured. It was filled with history and had an ancient charm. It had seen people's stories pass by its delicately carved posts. Past Derobmis had stepped across its beautifully engraved plinth and shared a moment of their life here too. It was a hidden treasure in the wilderness, left behind by time and concealed in the lesser-walked paths of the perfectly-styled park.

She enjoyed the feel of history and used to wonder who'd sat here before her. Had another Derobmi sat upon these steps and dreamed of lands far away?

It was also a place that was completely unpoliced. It was a piece of wilderness hidden from the rest of the world that was open to all kinds of misbehavior. Teenagers came here to make out, dealers came here to sell things and Carla came here to feel normal.

She sat on the cold, stone steps and stared out at the wild grasses that were bordered by thick lines of trees, which hid the bandstand from the rest of the park. She was completely alone, which was a relief.

The world would be perfect if there weren't any other people in it.

Unfortunately, other people plagued her world.

She glanced down at her clothes as they dried in the filtering sunlight. She groaned at the mud and grass stains on her creased and ripped uniform. There was no going home looking like this.

With a long drawn out sigh, she decided to hide out here until she could find an answer to her problem. That was what she always did, hid away while waiting for a solution.