A Place Called Rojus



There is a place where no one wants to go. A prison, that at the same time is a paradise. Once you get in, you can never leave. I have been sent here, for reasons unknown. They are looking for me again, so I have to run and never stop.

For the past few days my life was stuffed into Rojus, a prison that makes one feel as if you are in paradise. In Rojus you own an adequate house and plenty of food, but you are stuck here forever, never able see your family or friends again. Before I came here, the police wiped my memory, now all I know is my name, Kristy Richards.

When you first come to Rojus, you are left with a scar of what you did to get yourself put in here. They tell you what the scar means when you go to the hospital. For the time that you stay there, the doctors fix you up and then send you back out into Rojus.

I cannot go to the hospital. I cannot know what my scar is. Once I know what my scar is, I will be able to figure out what I did. I do not want to know what evil I have done.

Each night I hide some place different. If I stay in my house the police will come for me and take me to the hospital. Tonight I am under a massive bridge. The bridge is a burnt orange color and looks out into the ocean. The salty water was charged with electricity to keep the prisoners from running away. Even from the surface, my ears still picked up the low hum of the generators lying at the bottom of the ocean. We can never see what the bridge goes to because the sky is always too foggy. The older prisoners that live here call the bridge The Golden Gate Bridge, but I think that is too glorified. This place is a prison. We do not have room for a bridge of gold.

During my time here I have tried to become friends with some people, but nobody wants to talk to a seventeen-year-old. I am all alone here, trapped in a world where murderers and psychotics can live.

I looked down at the small wrist watch I was wearing. The time read 8:25 PM. Normally I would still be looking for a place to hide, but something drew me to this bridge. I felt that my past was trying to speak to me through the bridge, but I could not tell why.

Suddenly, I heard the soft squeak of a wheel that needed oiling. I looked up and saw a small dark figure coming towards me through the fog. I did not get up like any other person would. The dark figure was Paul O'Connor, the only person that would lend an ear.

Paul was paralyzed from the waist down and had to spend his life stuck in a wheel chair. He found out that in his old life he became drunk and caused a car crash. Now his punishment is to remain in Rojus as a paralyzed man.

Paul is not the most handsome man I have ever seen. He is burly and Irish. His floppy red hair was pulled back out of his face today. The usual stubble that often dotted his face was shaved off. For some reason he looked sadder than he was the day before, but that is one of the side effects from living in Rojus so long. I watched Paul as he rolled up next to me. We sat in silence before Paul asked,

"Why do you run from the police?" His lips were forming a frown and his brow was furled.

"I don't want then to catch me. This government can't control me. I won't let them." We usually have this conversation every time we see each other. Paul sometimes acts like he is my mother. I will usually correct him, but this time felt different. I could tell Paul really wanted me to be safe.

"It's not good to run from them. They will find you, and the more you run the worse your punishment will be in the end." Paul's face was full of concern, I could feel it radiate off of him.

Immediately, I knew something was wrong. Paul would never come out and find me this late at night. I began to get up and was prepared to run, but the look on Paul's face rooted me to my spot. He looked sad and defeated, something was wrong.


"I'm sorry Kristy. They told me I could see my family. I'm so sorry." I felt a small shock in my back. When I looked over my shoulder, I saw a police officer holding out a shock prod. Immediately, I felt numbness spread over my body. Soon I would be fast asleep and at the mercy of the police officers.

As I drifted into sleep I could just hear Paul whisper, "I get to see my family again. They said I could see my family."