Copyright 2014 All Rights Reserved
Detention By Claire Chilton
Chapter Four | Monsters
Carla made her way down the dark hall toward the staircase that led up to the fourth floor. She gripped the megaphone in one hand while her flashlight shook in the other.
Lilly had supplied her with everything she needed. All she had to do was signal the other kids that it was time to riot by making a loud roar. However, to make it believable, she needed to be on the fourth floor when she did it.There probably isn't a monster up there anyway.
She inhaled a shaky breath as she tiptoed down the long corridor toward the main staircase. Her flashlight was shaking so much that the hallway was lit up like a nightclub, with beams flying around it like strobe lighting. This is for the good of everyone. They need their freedom. She tried to convince herself that pretending to be their messiah was good for them, but it made her feel dirty on the inside.
She shook off the feeling. They've been waiting for this for a long time. It's about time someone took down Nick Rancy and his evil imprisonment.
She breathed a sigh of relief when she realized there were no guards at the foot of the stairs. Okay, I just have to get upstairs, and then the revolution will begin.
The flashlight beam shook violently as she climbed the staircase, eager to get to the top unnoticed.
When she reached the third floor, she bumped into a post and yelped so loudly that it was a small miracle nobody heard her. Shaking off the feeling of terror, she closed her eyes for a moment and slowly exhaled. Okay, get a grip.
She tried to shake off the goosebumps that had popped up on her arms and crept slowly and silently up to the fourth floor.
She stopped outside the massive steel door at the top of the staircase. It was sealed shut with no obvious way in. She flashed her light around the area. It was depressingly gray and sparse. There was a big ominous door with a strong lock on it and a welcome mat in front of it.
She ventured curiously toward the door and tried the door handle, which didn't budge. She muttered swear words under her breath. Great, how am I supposed to get in?
She peered down at the welcome mat. It seemed like a silly place for a doormat. Instinctively, she reached down and peered underneath it. Her eyes widened when she found a shiny key.
She snatched up the key and put it in the lock. There are no such things as monsters. She turned the key. There was a loud thunk as the door unlocked.
She exhaled a shaky breath as she opened the door and stepped into a dark room, leaving her flashlight on the floor near the welcome mat. She turned to check that no one had followed her.
Her throat closed up in a silent scream as the door banged shut in her face. She heard three automatic locks click loudly into place, locking her on the fourth-floor. Oh crap.
She winced at her predicament and peered down dark corridor behind her. There wasn't much to see. It was dark and unlit. She felt the walls. They were smooth and cold like metal. Up ahead in the distance was a dim glow of light.
Okay, I'm here. Let's do this. She gripped the microphone, trying to summon a roar rather than a whimper from her vocal chords.
She jumped when she heard an alien screaming noise in the distance. It sounded like a monster. Closing her eyes for a moment, she tried to overcome her own fear. Great, there is a monster.
She frowned, knowing that she was meant to kill it. But, I don't want to kill anything. Maybe it's a nice monster.She shuddered when another wail came from the corridor ahead of her.
Clenching her jaw, she turned to face the direction of the screaming. I don't have a choice.
She faced the noise, which grew in volume as she slowly walked down the hall toward it. When she drew nearer to the light, her eyes adjusted to the darkness, and she could make out a door on her left. If she wasn't mistaken, the screaming noise was coming from whatever was inside that room.
Her heart pounded as she neared the doorway. The wailing continued, and she winced every time her footsteps clattered on the floor.
She stopped and peered around the steel frame of the doorway, trying to prepare herself to slay a monster.
Her eyes widened as she froze, amazed by what stood before her.
A boy of approximately fifteen years of age, wearing low-slung jeans and a t-shirt, was jumping about to some wild music and wailing along in time to it.
It took her a few seconds to realize it was music because it was like nothing she'd heard in Derobmi before. It was an unusual sound. Unlike most Derobmi music, it didn't put you to sleep. It kind of woke you up.
She scanned the boy's room. There was a jumbled mess of clothing and magazines strewn across floor, which appeared to cover every surface. In Derobmi, it was a sin to allow an abode to be this messy. By the basic rules of society, the place should have been neat and clean. However, walls adorned with posters of girls and cars surrounded an unmade bed. A myriad of colors and words overwhelmed the room itself. It was a mysterious treasure trove of secret boy-things, and she wanted to explore it.
She turned her eyes to the boy, who so far had not noticed her arrival. He was still jumping around to the music and leaping on and off the bed, completely taken over by the music and oblivious to anything else. His jeans were ripped in places and worn away at the knee. His t-shirt was oil-stained and creased, and he had a pair of disgustingly muddy boots on his feet.
She idly wondered where the mud had come from.
He looked slightly dangerous, from the back anyway. She hadn't seen him turn around yet.
She was surprised that instead of the disgust she should feel at meeting such a messy person, as expected of all girls in Derobmi, she actually quite liked him. Well, not just liked, she was drawn to him like a magnet.
He spun around and finally noticed her presence. He froze and stared at her with wide eyes. He brushed a lock of his dirty blond hair away from his wide green eyes, silently studying her as a surprised expression crossed his face.
Carla contemplated the best way to introduce herself.
"Oh, no, you can't be here!" He ran into the closet and shut himself in it.
She frowned. She was surprised herself. Apparently, it wasn't a monster on the fourth floor. It was a teenage Adonis in ripped jeans. One who, by the looks of it, liked to hide in his closet from girls who showed up in their nightwear.
She glanced down at her gray pajamas. They don't look that bad!
She walked over to the closet and tried the door, only to find that he'd locked it. She spoke to the door instead. "Hi, um, sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. Please come out," she said to the pine door.
"You're not real, and I'm not seeing that therapist again, so go away!" His voice echoed loudly through the closed door.
She raised an eyebrow. "I bloody am real!"
"No, you're not!" he cried. "You're just another one of my perverted flashbacks, and I'm not falling for it this time."
She frowned. Maybe he is just too crazy to be near the other inmates of the institute. It was a shame because he really was a beautiful boy.
"Perverted?" she said to herself, and then thought for a minute. "Hold on! How many purple girls do you know?"
There was a pause on the other side of the door. Then there was a shuffling sound, followed by the door unlocking.
The boy stepped out of the closet and stared at her. "I've never seen a purple person before," he said.
"Well, pinch me if you want. I'm real, see?" Carla said, offering her arm.
He looked apprehensive, but he squeezed her arm. Her knees went a weak at his touch. He had big lovely hands.
She mentally shook herself out of it. "See? I'm real. Now, can you help me? I need your help."
The boy stepped out of the closet. "Wow! I never have real girls up here. I'm Jeremy, hi."
What a waste. Real girls around the world would love you.
"Hi, I'm Carla," she said instead.