There was a man, normal in all appearance to the world around him, who was by all definition a prisoner. Though there were no bars on his windows there were bars on his soul. Though none could see the police guarding him they were there nonetheless.
He lived his life as many would believe normal. He was an avid churchgoer. He would be seen at Mass every Sunday and at many Church events. He worked hard and earned a good living. By almost standards he was a good person.
But he could not escape. He was more stuck in his self-built prison then one captured and placed under guard of a hundred men. At one point he had been able to escape. He had hated the prison and realized how bad it was. He avoided it and only went there on occasion. However he enjoyed himself when he was there. It was not a terribly seeming place and it pleased him. And more and more he would return to this terrible prison. It enticed him in with feelings of fun, entertainment, lust.
And slowly he would remember less and less how bad it was. Oh, he knew it was still bad, but he ignored that fact. It was pushed to the back of his mind because all he wanted was to fulfill that need for entertainment. Eventually it had complete control over him. He had practically convinced himself that it was not bad, and indulged in it so often it was affecting the rest of his life. He would not speak to people in fear they would find him out. He would not go to mass because of the guilt he felt when he did so. And yet through this whole time silently in his heart he wished that someone would find out.
He desperately wished that someone would discover his prison and forbid him to enter it. That they would place bars over the door and watch him to see he never returned. But he could never speak out to anyone because he feared discovery as much as he wished for it.
And so he lived his life, forever stuck, in his own prison. Every time he tried to escape it came back stronger. And he grew old. he lived an average life with good friends, but never did he escape that prison.
On one fateful day he was the major sufferer of a car accident. His life was taken and he departed from this world. He awoke in a place of light, but before he could examine his surroundings he saw one thing that caught his eye. There was a man there, smiling down upon him. He was dressed all in white and light seemed to radiate from him. One hand he held out towards the prisoner, the other held a key. The prisoner took his hand, and they walked together into the light.
He was a prisoner no more.
'Fire of the Spirit' Teen blog is run by Henry B. To find more information about this blog, go here