by Rebbeca Tung
Age 10

Marge snorted and reread the flyer. It said, "Madame Fange's Academy for the Troubled." Pocketing the leaf of paper and grabbing her carpetbag, she hurried to the lawn where her mother's tan, dented station wagon was parked coughing out exhaust. She threw everything into the back seat, while listening to her mother chide about the three hour long trip to Kent.

"Oh brother," she muttered rolling her eyes.

***

Marge was ushered into a cement gray, cobweb-filled building. She shook her head in disapproval at the fake potted plants, scattered lawn chairs, cramped classrooms, and the cold, impassive staff. Only Daphne, the bus driver, had been kind, providing them with valuable information. Obviously 3/4 of the academy had been phony. Students were told to clean out Madame Fange's sleeping quarters, eat gruel and brussels sprouts, never smile, and sleep on cots that were already packed with four other students!

Fortunately an odd girl named Limea had been very generous sharing gruel and helping Marge dust the wardrobe.

"Always bin stuck in dis dirt pile!" Limea growled, her eyes filled with rage. She kicked furiously at the four-poster bed as the two cleaned Madame Fange's bedroom.

"You never had a family?" Marge asked aghast at the thought of such loneliness.

"Madame Fange adopted me at an early age," the other girl replied opening the door to leave.

Marge sighed and hurried out of the bedroom returning to her dormitory. Though Madame Fange had stolen cameras and cell phones and had thrown letters away, she had failed to take Marge's disposable camera.

Now Marge held the small camera and ran down the dimly lit corridors to what was called the Discipline Room. Madame Fange and her sister, Blair, had already begun disciplinary time randomly switching kids with belts. Carefully Marge took photos of the victims, cringing at their scarred and slightly bleeding backs. Suddenly Madame Fange looked up and asked, "Where are those moronic girls?"

"Limea and Con #287900? (aka Marge)" Blair asked.

Madame Fange nodded and smirked. "I am convinced that the two are hiding outside this room behind the door."

The two spotted Marge and smiled and watched, as she hastily stuffed something in her pocket. Blair snickered, "It seems that Marge is hiding something."

Blair strode to #287900 (aka Marge) and shoved her, sending her sprawling. The camera went flying in the air and broke upon impact. Marge tried to hide it but it was too late. They had seen the camera.

***

"Well, well. Our prisoner has a camera," Madame Fange said facing Blair. Then she turned to #287900 scowling. "Have you forgotten, fool, that cameras and cell phones were prohibited the first day?"

Marge shifted uncomfortably, still lying on the concrete floor of the Disciplinary Room.

"I shall dismiss you now, wretch. Next time--" the woman paused, her voice trailing off. After a moment, she continued. "Next time, you will wish you were never born."

Blair kicked Marge then dragged her away. "You will be isolated from the others. Do not snoop around when you are cleaning rooms or fetching well water. I will send Limea to deliver your belongings."

The cell room was dank and moldy with moth-eaten rugs laid out for her to sleep. A single candle sat beside the rags, casting pale, barely visible shadows.

Marge sighed. This would not be an easy night for her.

***

Con. 287900 was standing outside of the building, surrounded by a fence that was covered by chicken wire as she hurried outside supposedly "fetching water." Around her arms were two buckets filled with evidence that something was going terribly wrong at the Academy. The girl regretted leaving Limea behind but, she would be the only who was allowed to collect water.

Of course, Marge had been taking pictures of the Academy, first of the small cell then of herself fetching water as Fange and Blair taunted her.

Quickly, Marge crawled under the fence using a hole that she had dug and hopped on to the Daphne's bus. No one was watching. She turned the key in the ignition and breathed deeply. Then she put the bus into DRIVE and pressed down on to the pedal. The vehicle crashed through the fence and she watched as everyone poured out of the building.

"CATCH HER!" a red-faced Blair cried. Cars pulled out of the parking lot to chase the bus but as they ganged up on the automobile, it veered away turning a sudden right into a backyard. Marge gritted her teeth as the bus parked at the police station and climbed out with her information. She dashed into the station and dumped everything on to the table.

An officer asked, "And what is this hubbub, young girl?"

"Evidence," Marge answered.

"Evidence for what?"

"Proof that 'Madame Fange's Academy for the Troubled' is a phony."

The officer began to examine each object, wearing latex gloves to prevent any unnecessary fingerprints. He looked up at Marge and began to ask another question when the Fange sisters burst in.

"Can you believe it? Our own niece ran away from home!" the two cried in unison, snatching Marge's collar.

"I'm afraid this isn't your niece and that I'll have to arrest you two for child abuse." the man replied, handcuffing the two.

In a nearby car, Limea gave Marge a thumbs-up. The former prisoner, 287900 grinned toothily and nodded. Marge was going home.