The Outliers

Detention | Chapter Two

"Yep." She offered a cheerful smile.

"We'll see about that. If I choose to, I can legally keep you within these walls forever. You're in my world now." He ominously polished his cuff link, shooting her a dark glance.

She looked him up and down before loudly yawning. Why are people like this allowed to work near other human beings? Anal-retentive morons on a quest to make everyone else on the planet have a bad day just because some idiot gave them a bit of power over innocent lives. This world definitely needs some changes in it.

She looked him straight in the eye. "Well, I'll just have to change the world then, won't I?" She smiled sweetly, trying to fight her natural instinct to rebel. She'd promised her mother that she'd be good, but her natural instinct was to fight back.

"I'm Nicholas Rancy, and I am the head officer for your assigned cellblock," he said, ignoring her statement. "You may call me Mr. Rancy or Nick."

Rancid prick, she thought.

"You will stay here in the detention block tonight, and tomorrow you will be taken to the girls' dormitory to be instructed further on the rules of conduct at C.R.A.P." He walked to the door, and then turned and glanced back over his shoulder at her. "I'm turning off your alarm. Make as much noise as you like. It won't make any difference." He switched off the light, walked out and slammed the door behind him.

She listened to the hollow sound of the lock slamming into place, followed by footsteps echoing away until all that remained was silence.

She solemnly stared at the door, feeling as if she'd lost some battle of wills. For all of her bravado, she had ended up locked in a cell. What if there was a fire? What if everyone forgot she was here? What if... She paused and eyed the bars up on the window. They didn't look so tough.

She inspected the room under the dim glow of moonlight through the small window, searching for faults and mischief-causing materials. After a moment, she shook her head. She'd made a promise to her mother that she wouldn't be rebellious. Maybe if she just played by the rules, it would all be okay. She jumped up and ran to the door, peering out through the tiny peephole. "Hey, what about my phone call?"

The corridor was silent.

"I get to call my mom, right?" she added.

"Shut up. You'll get us all in trouble." A low voice hissed back from a nearby cell.

"But, we're allowed to call our parents, aren't we?" Carla asked in a quieter voice, trying to guess which cell the voice had come from.

"We don't have parents anymore. We belong to the state," the voice said.

Carla shook her head. "No, that's not true."

"They left you here, didn't they?"

Unsure of herself, Carla stepped away from the door. "Y-yeah..." she muttered.

"Once you're in here, there's no way out."

The voice caused a shiver of fear to tremble down her spine. She was only twelve. She was too young to rot in prison forever. Someone would come to get her out. They just had to.

She frowned as she sank onto the bed. They're just trying to scare me, but what if I never get out? She shook her head. No, I just need to do my two weeks. If I'm good, I'll get to go home.

She narrowed her eyes. I just need to survive for two weeks and get out of this cell. She sat back on the bed, trying to ignore the very real fear that she could be stuck in here forever.