A Prisoner And Yet Novels & Stories

They bolted past her, and she doubted they even saw her in their rush to get to the clinic. Her stomach clenched in anxiety. It was midnight, and all the prisoners should be locked up within their respective cells, but from the condition of that poor man, she’d say he was fresh out of a warzone. No wonder Z and Ysiah were in a rush. If that guy died and he had a chip inside him… Jesus.

That made no sense to me at all, especially when I was still in the basement of the man who had brutally killed my family. Five days left, five more days left before my freedom would supposedly be granted, and until now nothing had happened. I thought I would be trapped in the basement forever. I had been counting every single day, and according to Giovanni, it was going to happen today. And now I'm beginning to doubt him because I don't think this will go as planned. Suddenly, the door opened without delay. I slowly stood up. Primo came inside. “Follow me.” No questions were asked; I just did as I was told.

"The yard calls me Fin." "How... how did you get in here? I didn't see anyone." Fin stepped out of the shadows. They moved with a strange, easy grace. "I was here the whole time. Didn't want to ruin your little DJ session. I figured you needed the release." "Who are you?" I asked again. "Girl, who do you think I am? Your roommate? Or co-pilot? I'm your cellmate, of course." I stared, my mouth hanging open. "My... my cellmate? How can a man be in a women’s prison?"

Drunk on his flattery, Tawnie lost all clarity and completely forgot her duties as a doctor. In the end, she harmed both others and herself. Matthew was ultimately sentenced to ten years in prison. Having no valid medical license, he had no qualification to perform surgeries. His practice was illegal. I had never looked down on him, only merely stating facts. Tawnie was sentenced to three years in prison. Our marriage came to an end. After everything had finally settled, Tawnie asked to see me. I hadn’t initially agreed, but she insisted it concerned Bethany. Only then did I agree to see her one last time.

The Cult prisoner was bound and sullen. "One cell down," Marcus reported, covered in dirt and looking satisfied. "Dozens more to go." "Then we keep going," I said.

I scoffed, and slammed the door shut again. I was no longer chained, but I was still very much a prisoner.

As if I slipped into a parallel world, a golden, cruel world, where appearances hide the cage. I dry myself slowly, mechanically, without lingering. My mind is foggy. I still can’t grasp what happened. Yesterday, I was free. Insolent, perhaps. Daring, surely. Today, I am a prisoner. Kidnapped. Sequestered like a criminal. All this... for one word too many. A provocation. A pride I refused to bend.

They might not get another chance like this anytime soon. So Jules huddled in the cupboard near the basement, waiting for Liam to do his part. He didn’t have to wait long. Soon enough, there were Liam’s panicked shouts and then the sounds of people in heavy boots running past the cupboard. Then everything went quiet. His heart pounding, Jules got out of the cupboard and quickly headed to the basement. He had no idea how much time he had: probably ten minutes, if he was lucky. It should be enough. It had to be. Hopefully the guards wouldn’t think to check on their prisoner—they rarely seemed to—so Jules hoped they wouldn’t find out that the Xeus was missing until the morning. And hopefully no

“I’m just a prisoner here, how could I try to escape when I’ve tried, and I know it’s not possible” “Exactly, that’s why I didn’t believe it. But I’ll definitely get to the bottom of this.”

"We both know this is about control." He looked away first. "Your husband loves you very much. Everything he does is to protect you." "Is it protecting me to drug me unconscious and move me to a new prison in the middle of the night?" "You're not a prisoner. You're a patient. There's a difference." "What's the difference?" The question hung in the air between us, unanswered and unanswerable. Because we both knew the truth, the only difference between a patient and a prisoner was whether the cage was painted white and staffed with medical professionals.