Katrina Kahler - My Brother is an Outcast--Book 1

MY BROTHER

IS AN

OUTCAST

Katrina Kahler

Copyright KC Global Enterprises Pty Ltd

All Rights Reserved

Taken

Chapter 1 - Zoe

T heres a knock on the door. I open my eyes, and the light is low. In my mind, I plead, GO AWAY! Please go away! There is silence, and I breathe a sigh of relief. Perhaps I was dreaming. The knocking returns, only louder and longer. Surely they havent come so early! The sun is just starting to rise.

I hear my parents quickly shuffling to the front door in their slippers. The mumbled conversation becomes more intense. Then the door closes. I breathe again. It must have been a neighbor...maybe complaining about our cat. Even as I think this, I know it is foolish. I know what the knock is about.

Today is my 12th birthday. It is also my twin brothers birthday, but this is a birthday we have been dreading.

Footsteps are heading down the hallway. I freeze, paralyzed with fear. Mumbled whispering voices play around on the edge of my hearing. And then I clearly hear my brothers name.

They pass by my room and stop at the next bedroom.

I tell myself to get out of bed, to go to his aid. Then I hear my mother crying. My father uses his brave voice; he is telling Logan that its all going to be okay. Logan doesnt speak.

The footsteps head back towards the door. They stop outside my room. The door slides open, and my light is turned on.

My eyes wont open; they are glued shut. And then I hear my twins voice, Zoe, Im going now. I just want you to know that Ill love you forever. Logan carefully opened my hand and placed a round metal object, then he gently closed my fingers and gently kissed me on the forehead.

He thinks Im asleep and turns and walks to the doorway. The only sound is Dad sighing and Mom choking on her tears. The light goes off.

The front door opens, and the footsteps move outside.

Hes gone! The words scream in my head. Hes gone!!!

It was like lightning had struck me through my heart. The pain jolted me out of bed, and I ran outside. I was too late; I could only stand there and watch the red lights of the car as it disappeared down the street. Someone was screaming, NO! It was loud and painful, and then I realized it was me. The world spun around my head, and then darkness descended.

Chapter 2 - Logan

T hey came for me so early. I didnt even get a chance to say goodbye, but maybe that is a good thing. I wouldnt have wanted a lot of time to think about things. Sitting around waiting for them to come wouldve been agony.

The men who collected me were what we call the zombies. Not the human-eating walking dead zombies, like you see on TV and in the movies. No, these were people like me people who were born without the MAOA gene.

When I turned 11, my parents and I had to attend a compulsory pre-relocation seminar. Luckily my parents had pre-warned me about my condition. Some of the kids had no idea, and their future was a total shock. Some became speechless, while others couldnt stop crying. Those kids were given a pill to take, and they sat in their chairs for the rest of the day, silent and nodding.

They explained that years ago, the Earths jails were overflowing with millions of criminals. 97.9% of these criminals didnt have the MAOA gene. And without this gene, they were incapable of controlling their emotions and temper, leading to violent assaults and crime. The financial and social cost of having people, like me, in society was overwhelming the whole system. Something had to be done, and the leaders of governments around the world met and came up with a plan to solve this problem.

Funny, because Ive never done anything wrong; never been in trouble at school; never been in a fight; never stolen anything and yet I was a threat to society. I sat there wondering how many of the hundred or so kids who were about to be dragged away from their families had a clean record like me.

I returned my focus to the man on the stage. Every major city in the world built a separate section for the MAOA Defective people. On the screen in front was a beautiful picture of one of the relocation cities. As you can see, all the cities are the same, clean and new with all the facilities that anyone could ever want.

More slides of modern apartments, sporting facilities, high-tech schools, shopping centers, and parks flickered across the entire front wall. Mom and Dad, who were sitting on either side of me, squeezed my hand. I looked at Dad; his face was set hard and showing no emotion. Moms face was totally different, she was pretending to smile, but there were tears running down her cheeks.

He continued, For the first year, new residents... (as if we arent prisoners), are allowed to have their family visit for one hour every month.

A parent asked, Can I bring my son home for that hour? Everyone looked hopeful.

The presenter gave the parent a stern look, No questions during the presentation.

So was that a yes or a no? And besides, one hour per month, that means I would get to see my family for 12 hours over a whole year! And then what happens? Do the one-hour visits continue? There were way too many unanswered questions.

The presenter could see that his audience was getting annoyed. Of course, you do have another choice which will allow your sons and daughters to stay with you.

There was an audible groan from the audience.

You can choose for your child to undergo surgery to have the emotion center of their brain disabled, he announced with a smile.

Oh yes , I thought... a great choice! After the op, you were basically a non-feeling robot or a zombie, as Zoe and I called them.

Another picture came up on the screen. Youll see these people all over our city, performing essential services to the whole community.

His voice continued to drone on, but I could only think of the two choices I had. Remain a person and lives away from my family or become a zombie who was incapable of love, happiness, fear, sadness all the emotions that make us a human.

Yes, they did do a service to the community. They came and picked up little boys and girls and dragged them away from their loving families, or they became funeral directors or did other sad and distressing jobs.

After the seminar, Mom and Dad took me home. On the way we stopped for an ice-cream, I could choose anything I wanted. They didnt talk about the choices for a long time. But when they did, they gave me the final choice. Mom wanted me to become a zombie (not her words), but Dad didnt think that was a good choice.