Refugee Book Isabel Novels & Stories

But I wasn’t going to explain more than that. Isabella recovered first. “Of course he won’t be maltreated. The people we work with are carefully screened. They’re good people who genuinely want to help kids.” She pulled out her phone. “Let me call my friend Sarah. She’s been looking for a boy around Cruz’s age to live with her. She has a big house and she’s wonderful with children.” I watched as Isabella dialed the number. Cruz was listening to every word, hope starting to show on his young face.

I dump my bag on the floor and read through the shelf while pulling books out and mumble as I go. ‘Even a book can be dangerous in the wrong hands.’ ‘Ignite.’ ‘Hell is empty and all the devils are here.’ ‘You’ll make bad choices. Sometimes you’ll choose the best of bad ones.’ ‘Tuesday is Fucked.’ ‘Everything’s a game. And now it’s your turn.’ I have a stack of about 10 books before I abruptly stop. "Next isle." I say and we walk up and down the library isles. I climb and jump to get books off of shelves and Aidan has to catch me a couple of times when I fell.

You're already the last of your kind". That sentence got at her as she flipped her eyes open and felt so much rage. The last of her kind - Then, she recalled everything that had happened - how she lost her entire family - her sisters. Isabelle knew she was no more safe when she heard footsteps become closer and taking a brave step, she sprang on her feet and started running away - running away from her shield and out to the open - risking herself to the guards. The guards noticed her and the leader yelled: "After her!!!!" Everyone charged, and in a split second, 8 men were chasing her again. She had no idea what to do, or how she was gonna get rid of them, but she continued running anyways,

Isabelle respond calmly. "Oh yeah!,my entire visit is wasted well it's not that bad Isabelle but when it all comes down on you don't forget I warned you,you toyed with your dinner and I'm simply eating the leftovers" Zuzzana stalk to the door and spun "I'll take everything Isabelle just like you did"She slam the door,Isabelle drag in breath. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "I want water"A boy of six struggle to get up but kept falling in the dark cell he was put in "Water" A woman hand him a jug of water because that's the only available one in the cell of more than 74 people,the boy take it eagerly drinking.

He held a biscuit in one hand, took a slow bite, chewed like he had all the time in the world. “Hello, sweet face,” he said, smiling. Rage boiled up so fast I could taste it. “Where is she?” I snarled. He tilted his head. “No hello? No ‘how are you’? Rude, Giovanni.” “I don’t have time for your bullshit, Lucas. Where is Isabelle?” He sighed, theatrical. “Isabelle is somewhere safe. Somewhere no one can touch her. Somewhere she belongs.” I glanced at Juan. He shook his head..no trace. Untraceable.

Taking a deep breath, she hurried down the hallway and knocked on her grandmother’s door. The old woman opened it with a warm smile—only for that smile to vanish the moment she saw Isabella’s tear-streaked face. Concern replaced joy, and she quickly ushered the girl inside. “Child, what’s wrong?” Grandma said, guiding Isabella to sit on the bed. She cupped her hands around Isabella’s trembling shoulders, her voice soft but urgent. Isabella buried her face in her palms and sobbed. “Grandma… I’ve lived such a miserable life in the orphanage with Lilian. And when I came back home, I saw my sister Isadora in the same miserable condition.”

She’s the one who’s been guiding us through the refugee camp, showing us the way to these people who are helping. She looks at us with those knowing eyes, the same eyes that have seen so much suffering. “You’ll need to be careful with Isolde,” she says softly. “She’s not evil, but she’s not innocent either. She’s been living in that world for far too long to come out unscathed.” I meet Elowen’s gaze. “I know,” I answer. “But we don’t have time to be cautious. We need to do this. For them.”

No, John Donne, her inner voice said, drifting off even now as Sèdonoudè pled the case for his soul, we are each as islands, distant from each other as one star is from the next. ‘An I wanna tell you I ahm a grateful man for de way you helped me, coz I know is many, many, many people what don’ like a black, African man such as meself, an I wanna mek it up to you somehow, you know?’ Neither Lala nor Linda could really understand what it means to live at the margins. Not as an individual, suffering from illness such as Lala, or in poverty and illiteracy like Billy, even as a criminal in a community, but at the very edge of existence brought about by famine and war, and the displaced statelessn

“You get a bad feeling when someone looks at you funny.” “Funny looks don’t bleed people dry and leave their bones picked clean,” I snapped. He shut up. Isabella joined me at the edge of the cliff, where we could see the slow-moving trail of refugees winding down into the valley. Her voice was soft. “They’re scared.” “So am I.” She blinked. “You?” “Of losing them. Of losing you.” I swallowed hard. “I’ve seen too many graves. I can’t dig yours.” She turned to me, fierce and beautiful and impossible. “Then don’t let me fall.”

She then told Pedro and Alice about the women who had been captured and turned into sex slaves by the soldiers, and how they were tortured if they didn’t obey. "One of the girls I met in the Laguna camp was killed because she refused to react when the soldiers were assaulting her. That’s how vile those bastards are," Isabela’s eyes filled with tears as she recounted the story. "Everyone hates them," Pedro said, his anger rising. Alice’s stomach growled loudly, and she blushed when Isabela and Pedro looked at her. "I get it. No worries, it’s almost done," Isabela said, stirring the pot of noodles.