Finding Alice Read Online Free Page B

of what feels like a very powerful and prophetic sentence. I am completely flabbergasted. How could God allow this to happen? But then I realize that someone else is intruding—someone evil who wants to thwart my work. Although I don’t think I am online, I know without doubt that the enemy has hacked his way into my computer for the purpose of stealing my thoughts—my genius inspirations. I immediately shut down my computer and unplug it from the wall.
    With my divine knowledge I am suddenly cognizant that it’s through my computer that they are tracking me now, watching my every move, and plotting to destroy me. I can hear them whispering through my computer. Shay has led them to me, and his voice is the loudest. But they whisper horrifying threats and obscenities, using words I’ve never even heard and don’t fully understand. A secret language perhaps for those who conspire to steal my prophetic translations. They are clearly planning to destroy me—to shut me up for good.
    First I put my computer tower behind a stack of boxes, but I can still feel the eyes of the evil screen watching me, recording everything I do, every move I make—perhaps even reading my mind. As if on cue, Amelia wanders in and suggests I dispose of it entirely, but it’s my idea to throw it out the window. I feel very clever for thinking of this. I open my window and make sure no one is below, then simply drop the monitor and watch in fascination as it shatters into a hundred pieces all over the wet sidewalk.
    Unfortunately that doesn’t completely solve my problem. WhileI don’t fear being watched—not so much anyway—the voices and insidious threats continue to pour from the computer’s main box. Amelia reminds me that the computer’s brain still dwells in the tower and that it has already been reading my mind, perhaps transmitting misleading messages, and ultimately trying to control me.
    So, using a screwdriver and hammer, I open up the box and destroy its interior parts. It doesn’t occur to me that it took nearly a year’s worth of budgeting from my dad’s Social Security benefits for me to pay off this computer. Money is irrelevant now. I put all these broken components into a large cardboard box and tape it up securely. This will show them!
    From now on I will write my prophecy and spiritual interpretations only onto yellow legal tablets, and these will remain safely zipped in my backpack. I vow to myself and God to keep my backpack with me always, even when I sleep, which is becoming less and less. However, this lack of rest does not trouble me much. Sleep, like money or education or even food, is completely irrelevant in the larger realm of great spiritual awakenings.
    I’m not sure how much time actually passes during my revelation era, maybe a couple of weeks, but sometimes people stop by to check on me. Mostly, like when it is Chelsea, and later on Shay, I don’t bother to answer or even open the door. But I do open the door to Mr. Scoggins, since he manages the apartments and is very insistent in his knocking.
    “You know anything about that smashed-up piece of junk down on the sidewalk?” he asks me with a furrowed brow.
    I keep my door open about six inches, my foot planted firmly against it as I tell him, “I most certainly do not.” Lying is also irrelevant.
    “Well, someone thought it might’ve come from your apartment.” His voice oozes with suspicion, accusation, threat, and innuendo, and I suddenly wish that I’d never opened the door.
    “That’s impossible.” I slowly close the door a few more inches.
    “Everything okay in there?”
    “Sure.”
    He nods to his left. “Your neighbor thinks something’s not right with you. Says things aren’t normal in there. You better be straight with me, girl. Something wrong?”
    “Nothing’s wrong!” I close the door completely now and gasp for breath. That was a close one. My pulse pounds like a jackhammer against my temples, and it seems as if