Marisa2
by
Adrian Forbes
So it has always been. No government endures that oppresses and does not have the support of the governed populace. This is a story of such a government.
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.............an Excerpt...............
The besieged government
honored Marisa Connors and two other young Americans with free undergraduate and graduate tuition. These honors existed due to the students' allegiances for seven years. They were honored in categories: for their community volunteer work, scholarship and loyalty to the new government.
The young scholars didn’t know they were selected because of their exceptional intelligence. Actually, they didn’t know how advanced they were. They knew school work was easy and their memories sharp. They didn't know they would become the country’s future leaders and they were
provided controlled education at the same university.
In the first year of their
university training, the world had gone gloomy; it started in southern California.
The civil war
spread throughout the United Sates became ferocious with many deaths in many states. News of
skirmishes, large cities burned, battles pitting thousands of traitors and government troops bored the
three young patriots as they pursued more interesting studies and their advanced degrees. Their tested
loyalty was to the central government. And, in their sixth year of training they talked to each other
more often of home and family.
Marisa received weekly
letters from her mother and enjoyed hearing her excitement concerning a new job. She was overjoyed
when she heard that Natalie had been accepted to one the state’s finest schools of veterinary medicine.
She thought about Natalie.
“My little sister. In college already.”
She missed her sister and family as she looked up from the letter and said to Natalie in her heart, I knew you would get a scholarship. I hear it’s a fine school. She looked forward to talking to Natalie during her next phone call home. And her mother amused her when she related the little, silly things Grandma and Grandpa did. Marisa thought her grandparents adorable but definitely old-fashioned. She always asked her mother if she enjoyed her work, if all was well at home, and she was glad when they
agreed that the traitors were indeed to be dealt with severely.
She put down the latest
letter, thought her mother’s script looked different, glanced at her wristwatch and realized it was time
to take advantage of her special phone call privilege. She ran down the hall, down the flights of stairs
to the first floor. Sylvia sat at her desk and yawned. She watched Marisa catch her breath.
“I’m here to make a call home.” Marisa said holding her chest. She glanced at the name plate and read: Sylvia Led, Dormitory Supervisor, as she handed Marisa an official note. She unfolded the red paper, read it and glared at Sylvia. Her voice quavered.
“What do you mean, I can’t call my home?” Marisa glared at the woman, folded her arms
and tapped her foot slowly.
End of the Excerpt from Marisa2
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