G.C. Julien's Blog
May 9, 2017
Journal of Emilio Rodriguez - Second Entry
The Feral Sentence - Part 1
August 15, 2087
3:12 p.m.
It is hard to trust a man when you have only met him several times. But, Edward has assured me that he will keep his promise. For twenty thousand dollars, he will take me to Kormace Island, and in three days, return for me. He has told me that what he is doing is very risky. He said that if we are caught in the air space above the island, we could be shot down.
But then, he said that the government does not monitor this air space. I am not sure what to believe. I think he is trying to intimidate me. Or, maybe he is trying to make it sound more dangerous than it really is. That is why he asked for so much money. I do not know.
As I write this, I am sitting in a small water cessna and Edward is flying. He’s an older gentleman with silver hair, but very young skin. He is wearing sporty sunglasses that reflect orange and purple colors. He is wearing green pilot headphones. So am I. And I am thankful for these because they block out the sound of the engine, which is much louder than I expected it to be for such a small plane.
The ride is much more bumpy than any plane I have flown in before but his hands are loose on the control wheel, and he is very confident. He says he has been flying for over thirty years with the military.
I am having a hard time writing, but I must document everything I do. I do not want to miss any step I take.
5:47 p.m.
I can see an island now. It looks like a black dot floating on the ocean water. Edward talks into his headset and tells me that we are getting closer to Kormace Island. My heart is racing. There are so many thoughts in my head. What if my mother is alive? Will I even recognize her? Will she still speak Spanish, or English? Or will she have learned a new language? I do not think she is alive, but I still hope…
The island is getting bigger now. It is much bigger than I expected. There are mountains, and there are trees everywhere. It looks like a jungle.
I just asked Edward if it is a jungle, and he smiled and nodded to me.
Why are they dropping women off in a jungle? I am so angry right now. This is so inhumane. But I don’t say anything. The agreement between me and Edward was simple: no questions asked. I give him money and he drops me off for three days.
There is a sinking feeling in my stomach as the plane slows down. I keep thinking we are going to fall out of the sky, but we do not. Edward makes a sharp turn in the sky and comes down on the water near the shore.
I look out through the small window in my door and rub my elbow against it to remove the humidity. There is so much green and darkness everywhere. I am a bit frightened now. What am I getting myself into? What if these women are completely wild? What if they refuse to let me interview them?
I am the only man on this island right now. That is also very scary.
I’m going to close my journal now. Edward has landed the plane and I know it is time to get out. I will be going into the jungle.
Again, my name is Emilio Rodriguez and my address is 15-89 St. Maria, Cartagena, Columbia, 130013. I am here to conduct research on Kormace Island. I don’t believe what the government is doing is honest or humane in any way. I want to put a stop to it.
If this journal is found and I am not, please go to my address. There is much research in my apartment. This needs to be exposed.
August 15, 2087
3:12 p.m.
It is hard to trust a man when you have only met him several times. But, Edward has assured me that he will keep his promise. For twenty thousand dollars, he will take me to Kormace Island, and in three days, return for me. He has told me that what he is doing is very risky. He said that if we are caught in the air space above the island, we could be shot down.
But then, he said that the government does not monitor this air space. I am not sure what to believe. I think he is trying to intimidate me. Or, maybe he is trying to make it sound more dangerous than it really is. That is why he asked for so much money. I do not know.
As I write this, I am sitting in a small water cessna and Edward is flying. He’s an older gentleman with silver hair, but very young skin. He is wearing sporty sunglasses that reflect orange and purple colors. He is wearing green pilot headphones. So am I. And I am thankful for these because they block out the sound of the engine, which is much louder than I expected it to be for such a small plane.
The ride is much more bumpy than any plane I have flown in before but his hands are loose on the control wheel, and he is very confident. He says he has been flying for over thirty years with the military.
I am having a hard time writing, but I must document everything I do. I do not want to miss any step I take.
5:47 p.m.
I can see an island now. It looks like a black dot floating on the ocean water. Edward talks into his headset and tells me that we are getting closer to Kormace Island. My heart is racing. There are so many thoughts in my head. What if my mother is alive? Will I even recognize her? Will she still speak Spanish, or English? Or will she have learned a new language? I do not think she is alive, but I still hope…
The island is getting bigger now. It is much bigger than I expected. There are mountains, and there are trees everywhere. It looks like a jungle.
I just asked Edward if it is a jungle, and he smiled and nodded to me.
Why are they dropping women off in a jungle? I am so angry right now. This is so inhumane. But I don’t say anything. The agreement between me and Edward was simple: no questions asked. I give him money and he drops me off for three days.
There is a sinking feeling in my stomach as the plane slows down. I keep thinking we are going to fall out of the sky, but we do not. Edward makes a sharp turn in the sky and comes down on the water near the shore.
I look out through the small window in my door and rub my elbow against it to remove the humidity. There is so much green and darkness everywhere. I am a bit frightened now. What am I getting myself into? What if these women are completely wild? What if they refuse to let me interview them?
I am the only man on this island right now. That is also very scary.
I’m going to close my journal now. Edward has landed the plane and I know it is time to get out. I will be going into the jungle.
Again, my name is Emilio Rodriguez and my address is 15-89 St. Maria, Cartagena, Columbia, 130013. I am here to conduct research on Kormace Island. I don’t believe what the government is doing is honest or humane in any way. I want to put a stop to it.
If this journal is found and I am not, please go to my address. There is much research in my apartment. This needs to be exposed.
Journal of Emilio Rodriguez - First Entry
August 14, 2087
My name is Emilio Rodriguez. Before I continue with my entries, I would like to write a little bit about myself in case something terrible happens to me.
For identity purposes: I am 36 years old, approximately 5”8 tall, and have medium length black hair. I am from Columbia. I have a circular-like scar on my left cheek that prevents part of my beard from growing.
If this journal is found, please return it to the 15-89 St. Maria, Cartagena, Columbia, 130013.
Now I will tell you why I am writing this journal.
Thirty-two years ago, my mother, Camila Garcia, was prosecuted for a murder she did not do. I know this because I was there. My mother did not kill anyone. She made mistakes, yes, but these were mistakes of love. She fell in love with another man.
My father was a good father, but he was involved in very dark matters. My mother did not like this. When my father found out, he sent men after her lover to have him assassinated. The blame was put on my mother as form of punishment.
I was told she was sent to a federal prison, but I was never allowed to visit my mother. Any time I requested information from the prison, I was told to go home. As I got older, I began to do research. I knew she was not in there. I knew they had done something to her.
A few years ago, I came across a news article: “New Sentencing System to Reduce Tax Dollars.”
This was it. This was what I had been looking for. The article mentioned Kormace Island, and island for female murderers. There was another article about Aracis Island, but this was for males. I was only interested in Kormace Island, because I knew this was where my mother was sent. I could feel it. This punishment was not new. It was an old secret.
Why do we not hear of women coming back? I have cut out hundreds of newspaper articles about women who are sent to this island, and they are posted on my apartment wall behind me. Never do I hear of their return, even after their sentence is over. I have tried searching for these women online, but it is as if they have been erased from the system.
I have met someone who tells me he knows where this island is. Someone who used to work for the government. He has promised to take me to the island in exchange for twenty thousand American dollars. Sadly, I do not think my mother is still alive. How could anyone survive that long in the wild? I pray she is, but I know I may not find her. What I want to do is expose the truth. If I can speak with these women and have them tell me their stories, perhaps I can bring this to the media and expose the government for what it really is.
This man… I will give him the money, and tomorrow, I will go to Kormace Island.
My name is Emilio Rodriguez. Before I continue with my entries, I would like to write a little bit about myself in case something terrible happens to me.
For identity purposes: I am 36 years old, approximately 5”8 tall, and have medium length black hair. I am from Columbia. I have a circular-like scar on my left cheek that prevents part of my beard from growing.
If this journal is found, please return it to the 15-89 St. Maria, Cartagena, Columbia, 130013.
Now I will tell you why I am writing this journal.
Thirty-two years ago, my mother, Camila Garcia, was prosecuted for a murder she did not do. I know this because I was there. My mother did not kill anyone. She made mistakes, yes, but these were mistakes of love. She fell in love with another man.
My father was a good father, but he was involved in very dark matters. My mother did not like this. When my father found out, he sent men after her lover to have him assassinated. The blame was put on my mother as form of punishment.
I was told she was sent to a federal prison, but I was never allowed to visit my mother. Any time I requested information from the prison, I was told to go home. As I got older, I began to do research. I knew she was not in there. I knew they had done something to her.
A few years ago, I came across a news article: “New Sentencing System to Reduce Tax Dollars.”
This was it. This was what I had been looking for. The article mentioned Kormace Island, and island for female murderers. There was another article about Aracis Island, but this was for males. I was only interested in Kormace Island, because I knew this was where my mother was sent. I could feel it. This punishment was not new. It was an old secret.
Why do we not hear of women coming back? I have cut out hundreds of newspaper articles about women who are sent to this island, and they are posted on my apartment wall behind me. Never do I hear of their return, even after their sentence is over. I have tried searching for these women online, but it is as if they have been erased from the system.
I have met someone who tells me he knows where this island is. Someone who used to work for the government. He has promised to take me to the island in exchange for twenty thousand American dollars. Sadly, I do not think my mother is still alive. How could anyone survive that long in the wild? I pray she is, but I know I may not find her. What I want to do is expose the truth. If I can speak with these women and have them tell me their stories, perhaps I can bring this to the media and expose the government for what it really is.
This man… I will give him the money, and tomorrow, I will go to Kormace Island.
