THE REBEL--She had never been easily pushed into things, preferred to judge things herself using logic, never streamlined for society's desire and institutions were her worst nightmare.

What had she done to deserve this?

She had done nothing which could be classed as criminal and rarely anything else in any way harmful even to her own, never mind the world at large, but here she was, banged up with these dictators dressed in white coats. She hated them and their ways and ridiculous orders- she hated their prison with walls and gates though they said it was another part of a medical procedure, pseudo-medical sort of...medical procedure my......

She'd wept, cried, protested, asked to be pardoned for anything she had not done but they had used against her, she even wrote to Buckingham Palace with her protests, but they didn't answer either, she knew they wouldn't anyway but the traditional in her had made her. She tried every ploy she could think of, including a few feminine ones.

They'd put her in a padded cell, an orderly called Ann, a pompous rat-bag full of herself- and put a straight jacket on her- belted her up and left her to rot. She'd show them - later, she'd show them with every akward thing she could think of- she'd - she would - kick, scream....so unlike her, but this was a desperate situation needing desperate solutions.

Time to get out and she was obstinate, filled with hate at her treatment, wrongly labelled. All her life she had been an easy-going sort of person, calm and even thoughtfully kind, as she didn't hold with all that emotional bullshit put over to people, whilst taking thousands of charity money for themselves, but still helped where and when she could if it was sensible help...but after the 'treatment they called a sort of therapy to destroy the person' she had changed, drastically, she was a wrathful version of her former self and caused irritation on every side.

The new attendant caught her by mid-long, brown hair , "you behave for me or I'll have all that out."

"You wouldn't," she shivered in fear.

They tested on them regularly, or that is what they called it, she knew only too well, she felt it, heard her fellow inmates screaming in pain - another laser job. Bastards, sadists, this was pseudo- medical!

But no one summoned her to any lab or other -- Next morning she awoke, blinked, looked at her formerly white pillow. It was covered in hair, a thick, soft, brown pile like a plumped- up bear.

She didn't twig, couldn't understand, what was it...she pulled on her favourite sweater, a pale blue, pure wool. Then suddenly as the truth dawned she shrieked- the whole of her sweater had a thick covering of soft brown hair. Barely a pale blue patch to be seen on it- the floor was floating in soft brown tufts. She didn't know what to do. She ran into the hall - and there he was leering at her, the new attendant.

He looked straight into her face, spat out one word "remote" and grinned evilly..

She knew she was in for it now. Nothing could save her. She knew only too well about all the organ pressing by laser, remote, and the rest they used liberally for amusement. She put her hand to her thin remaining tresses. No one would believe her she knew. Outside they all thought it was the treatment or something and so it was at times and this looked identical ..only with this her pores had been destroyed and nothing would ever grow again in there, nothing - and nothing was recorded nor had anyone seen anything. No one ever saw anything!

No proof and no one talked. They're only loonies, though most were not- tell them how it works, like the picture to your television they sometimes said to each other, but no one wanted to know. After all you can't tell the truth, no one wants to know the truth, and if you can't tell it no one else will either!