A Prison for Paradise by Gabrielle B-G (spiritual books to read txt) 📖

stood for awhile in the middle of lot 58 until I finally remembered. Inside the  doors, all my answers were inside those truck doors. I was about to try to find out how to get in when a car full of teenagers spotted me. They told me to get in the car. I figured that maybe I should, if only to find Molly. So I climbed into the back seat. I was cramped with two young women and in the front were two young men. The women were much older than I was and kept asking me questions.

“Who are you,” they asked and then, “Where did you come from?”

I didn’t remember. They were a little unsure about my honesty. At first they didn’t trust me and thought I was odd. But, when the guy in the front asked me how long I had been at that place and I said, "As long as yesterday and tomorrow and forever," they realized that I had been a prisoner. So they gave me some magical candy.

“It’s good for you,” they said.

I got really happy and soon we were laughing and talking together. We were all high, I guess. I fell asleep for a good while and when we stopped again I was awake and feeling nauseous again. I was truly better, they told me, and sure enough I could remember everything.

“It’s the laughter,” they said. “It’s really good for the soul.”

I had never heard of a soul before. Mother never told me of a soul.

"What is a soul?" I asked.

"Oh. Well… it is your will, your freedom, your…you. It's the reason you're here. Nothing can stop you because of it.” The driver, Hal, said this with such uncanny certainty.

“You mean like the ocean?” I asked him.

“The ocean, well, kind of like the ocean…I guess.” Hal got quiet then and I didn’t feel like asking any more questions.

I had had enough of the candy after that, and when I had a drink of that special water, my sister was all that came into the forefront. "Where is my sister? Does my sister also have a soul? Maybe she escaped. Could she have been caught? Where is my sister?"

After awhile, I got up my courage to ask if they could help me find her. “Please. Will you help me find her?” They agreed. It took some arguing. Yet, finally they agreed that we would have to find my little sister.

“She could be anywhere, though, and the chances of finding her are slim,” said the other man, Tim.

We spent two weeks looking for her, but by Monday our spirits were getting soar. If only I hadn’t been captured, I thought. The one thing that did make us stop was when we reached an unexpected checking area and this is what I remember hearing Oh, no. Do you see that ahead? Crap! We’re in this together alright! Do you think we’ll be able to make it through there? I don’t know. Just be still….

They said that all of their cards were counterfeits and that they had mapped their route perfectly. Well, up until looking for Molly, they had been certain there was no new tracking booth along here. We slowly approached the end.

 

Flight

“You have to get out, Sarah!”

They said to run or the men would catch me. I didn’t know where to go, and I knew the officers wouldn’t let me escape. They approached on either side of the doors. Hal locked the doors to delay the officers.

"Get out!" He yelled. I finally figured out what he meant.

He meant to climb out through the window. The window was small, but I was able to fit right through. I slid out then with just enough time to sneak away and I ran and ran in the opposite direction.

I was running as far as I could get from the hundreds of booths, booths with men, men who would find me. They were men without souls but who were armed with guns. They were men who were officers, yet just who were they protecting?

Toll booths had to be more efficient so they decided to make hundreds upon thousands of toll booth rows. In the rows upon rows, people would stare blankly ahead, waiting for hours at times. When would it be their turn? That’s all they ever worried about or cared about anymore.

But so many chemicals and so many entertaining delusions were made to keep them happy. It was the way the system worked. They all chose, of course, to buy these tools that created their personalized bliss. There were no warnings. There were no dangers. There were no labels. It was simply how you did things. I didn’t understand any of it. How did no one see me? I caught a glimpse of what appeared to be a conscious man in the window, yet his eyes were so fixed. His stare was so focused on nothing but a point on the horizon. He didn’t look up when I screamed into the car.

So I kept running until I realized there was no where left to run to. The traffic and the noise sent me spinning in circles, and the flashing lights made me nauseous. I could go to the right and follow the line all the way to the end, but would this line ever end? I could follow the left, and I knew less about where that would lead other than darkness and possibly more guards.

Where was the end? I kept turning around in circles. Cars were on every side of me soon. Car horns poured into my ears. “Get out of the way! Get out of the Way! Get out of the Way! Get out of the WAY!” Everyone was suddenly screaming at me, but no one moved anything but their mouths. Their eyes were still focused on that one point.

I got sick and sweat rolled down my face. The fear had sent me falling to the ground as the world collapsed beneath me in a big jolt.

For awhile I lay there without sound or light, in between the lines. It felt like it was over, but by some strange coincidence or awesome luck I was picked up by Anna the “outlaw”.

Anna was helping children just like me. She’d rescue them and hide them in her authorized emergency vehicle which was able to go anywhere. Anna, who had once been a doctor’s assistant, saw me. She had jumped out and quickly grabbed me. She took me in and put me in the ambulance so fast that not even the guards saw her from that distance. Then she drove me in right through the checkpoint.

I was laid on a bench in the back, and when I regained consciousness I saw more benches filled up with people. I found myself with other children. Some of the children looked sick and some looked sad. Was I being rescued again? Soon, many of the children introduced themselves and told their stories of how they got there.

My story, I found out, was different than many other stories. Most of the children had been abandoned; some had never seen their parents and some had escaped the most hostile conditions. It made me feel different and a little guilty. How could I possibly ask about my sister? The question was like a hole eating away at my insides. Deep down, it was  sucking my life away. Too much fear, too much sickness. It had made me feel desperate and cold. I just couldn’t feel like I used to...not for anyone. I was alone, still alive... but always so alone.

“Where are we going?” I asked.

“Where we can be free, of course.” was Anna’s reply. “A long time ago doctors were free to roam the highways in search to save the sick and dying. All you had to do was press a red button, the ER button, and we would be able to find you anywhere.

That was when ambulances had all the same rights as the police did. “Save and protect.” That was our motto. Half the roads were blocked off for safety travel. Signals connected to our vehicles, would trace us through the shortcuts to every emergency imaginable. We would come to you…I felt proud of my work.

And really, it was the only way we could have done it. If we didn’t have those roads available, we couldn’t reach anyone in time through the traffic.

Sadly there isn’t even a point for the safety roads for us anymore. All the doctors have been called to aid the soldiers in our wars. People are sick everywhere, but there’s no one left to help them. That’s why we are fleeing to the wasteland.”

“Don’t you have to stay here and help all those people you were talking about?”

“Even if we tried, there is no chance,” she replied. “The roads have been blocked off from us since we were called away years ago. Let’s just hope our New Foundation can help itself.”

The words shot like bullets to my chest. New Foundation? W hat kind of a foundation was this? If nothing else, I knew we had to find my sister in The Wasteland. I was going to The Wasteland to find my sister at last. If this was the only place left we could go, then no matter what we were going to find her; if my sister knew it too, she would be trying just as hard as me to get there, to find me…as least I hoped.

How I would find her…now that was a question…“How big is The Wasteland, anyways?” I asked. Anna didn't reply and so I figured she didn’t know.

The thought of finding my sister brought new hope and life back into me. I was feeling less nauseous. I was lucky. My brother was not so lucky. Maybe I’d find him someday too.

I had been thinking about my brother a lot. What were the chances of meeting him in The Wasteland? Were there any? He was taken to war, not the end of all wars, not for a free settlement but a war that stomped out freedom. I knew it. He could be dead by now. But the thought almost ripped out my insides. I had to be calm and be happy to be stay alive now. I had to blend and I had to pretend. When you  lose hope, you lose all chance of survival; hope is what keeps you alive and keeps you struggling to do what is right. As long as I knew I had a chance, I could keep myself alive.

The world would never have my confession. I was fleeing, escaping with souls who also would never give up. But unlike the others, I knew someone who was waiting for me on the other-side. Unlike the others, I still had a family, didn’t I? Even if I couldn’t find them, they would remain a part of me until the end.

No matter where they were, I wanted them and needed them. I had to hold them and to love them and protect them. I knew they all loved me back. Family, friends, home: a lullaby in a storm, a kiss goodnight, but not a wave goodbye.

For what seemed like an eternity, we traveled. We had to hide the ambulance when we stopped. We were following the current of desperation. We were not always feeling hopeless, and we talked and joked every once in awhile.

I met this boy, and we would talk about everything. Our hopes and fears. He would say the nicest reassuring things to me. I would be sad and he’d make me feel better. When we would have to stop for supplies, he would always hold my hand because I used to be so afraid of getting caught.

His hands were so warm. It felt like I was being pulled into rays of