The Outliers

Detention | Chapter One

Copyright 2014 All Rights Reserved

Detention By Claire Chilton

Chapter One | Juvenile Detention

"Oh, you've gotta be kidding!" Carla Mainston cried as the car pulled up beside the juvenile detention center. She peered through the passenger window at the perimeter wall towering above them in gloomy gray stone, casting dark shadows across the road ahead.

She turned away from the car window to face her mother, who was sitting in the driver's seat. "I can't stay there. It looks like a prison!"

Her mother frowned at the austere complex through the windshield.

For a second, Carla felt hope blossom in her chest.

Then her mother shook her head. "It's for your own good, and it's only for two weeks. It won't be that bad." She smiled, and a few laugh lines appeared in her lime green skin.

"Come on! All I did was walk mud on Mrs. Bailey's carpet. It's not a crime!"

He mother narrowed her eyes for a moment. Then she cleared her throat and pointed to her biblical car sticker, which read:

THOU SHALT NOT DIRTY ANOTHER'S CARPET.

Carla slumped back in the car seat. "Come on. It can't be against the law. That judge must have been on crack. I didn't mean it. Isn't there like a section of the bible that says it's better to forgive than to avenge?" She peered hopefully at her mother.

Her mother shook her head.

"They should put that in the next edition of it," Carla muttered.

"Carla! Why do you have to always go too far? That's blasphemy!" her mother cried.

Carla slumped back in the car seat. She folded her arms, staring down at the lilac skin on them. "Why do you always punish me for being different?" she mumbled.

"Don't be silly," her mother said as she put the car into first gear and drove toward the gates. "This has nothing to do with how unique you are. It's because you broke the rules of the colony. You know that."

"It's a stupid rule," Carla muttered, narrowing her eyes. I can't believe I'm getting sent to juvenile detention for walking mud across someone's carpet. This colony is insane!

She widened her eyes as they drove through the dark iron gates into a courtyard. The dark building loomed above the car. Sharp slate spires peaked at the top of the east and left wing, and there was a rusty old balcony spanning the top level of the building. In rusted gold letters, the institution name was emblazoned across the front of the building: CLEANER'S REFORMATORY FOR ADOLESCENT PURIFICATION.

Oh, hell no!

She turned to her mother, whose eyes had also widened. "Come on. I'll be good. I promise I'll never be rebellious ever again." She really meant it too. She had known when she walked across Mrs. Bailey's carpet with muddy shoes that it had been a rebellious act because the old cow had called her a dirty immigrant because of the color of her skin, but she'd learnt her lesson. One look at the juvenile detention center, and Carla promised herself to never let a bit of racism make her act crazy ever again.

Her mother parked the car outside the building, shaking her head as she opened the door and got out.

Carla sighed and climbed out of the car, gripping her backpack. She closed the car door behind her with a loud thud, and then stared up at the drab concrete of the building towering over them, which was dotted with many tiny windows. It looked like a badly maintained prison, with iron bars on every window, flaky paint peeling off the large doors, and deep cracks in the gray concrete steps. For a building in Derobmi, it was a mess.