Hunt For Utopia

March 6, 2011
By Ryan Hoppenworth BRONZE, Mattawan, Michigan
Ryan Hoppenworth BRONZE, Mattawan, Michigan
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

South of East Asia is a small isolated country that has been the base of war for years. The worst criminals and the harshest dictators have been exiled to this island by a world that has moved on from its barbaric ways of war and its unjust ways of hate and prejudice. Now it is on the verge of a revolution by its visionary leader, just when all seemed to be going right for the people the leader was murdered.

Noah is the kind of person who wants to do something to change the world but doesn’t think he's able to help. “There is nothing wrong with the world,” he always told himself. Noah grew up in a poor family in downtown New York. His family always complained about the economy and clean energy prices, Even though it had become worlds better than when his old grandpa lived. His grandpa died when he was only twelve years old while in a classified black ops mission in eastern Afghanistan. Actually his family was not even close to being poor by his grandpa's standards. Noah always flashed back to his grandpa's “when I was a kid” stories that Noah had heard at least three times each. Noah could always care less about his war-torn, hate infested past. He always lived for his generation, but today would be different. As he opened the door, the sun gleamed off his jet black hair and made his blue eyes sparkle. Noah waved at the two police officers that went up and down the street every day. The officers started to smile, and then they froze and looked as if they had just seen a ghost. Noah stayed perfectly calm until one of officers pulled out a tazer and shot him. Noah hit the ground looking up at the light slowly slipped away from him his last thought for that day June 7th, 2042, was simple; this is clearly not my day.

Noah woke up to see that he was on a sandy beach. Am I dead? Noah thought if he was he had clearly done something wrong because it was a gloomy trashed beach. As he sat up he saw three other people out cold and another just standing there watching them like a hawk. He looked like a guy from one of the military pictures that his grandpa showed him from his time in the army. He had an old military haircut the same as his grandpa. He looked like the last person you would want to mess with in a dark alley. Actually I wouldn't want to mess with him anywhere, especially because he had a huge rifle slung over his shoulder. Noah was confused by this because the United States Army was disabled ten years ago. The ex military men, like the guard, were just used as weight loss instructors.

“Where am I?” Noah shouted franticly. “Where did you think you would be after taking part in terrorist attacks in Russia, Candy Land!” the big dude yelled out in his rough voice that sounded as if he ate a bowl of nails for breakfast without any milk. “You guys earned yourself a ticket to Skull Island, the roughest place on earth, also known as Candy Mountain.” Noah heard of this place before in the headlines before “Skull Island the Most Dangerous Place on Earth.” Noah had a hard time at winter camp, how was he going to survive here half way across the planet on an island for people addicted to genocide?

“Alright you low-lives time to go to your cell!” The guard barked at them.

Noah and the three false convicts of hate crimes road up a mountain that shook because of constant explosions of canons shells. “They are trying to get rid of us!” yelled Peter over the loud noises, cannons in rural parts of India fire at us every Tuesday and Friday. They're trying to wipe out people the world does not think belong. “Great, now there are more people trying to kill us,” said Matt. Noah was starting to catch onto the names. The jumpy red haired driver was Peter, a man of many words. Next to him was Matt, a pessimistic person, who was not into much of anything besides his wavy brown hair. Jake who was obsessed with world peace and karma, and lastly Mike, a person that I could actually see doing a crime like the one he was accused of. He had long greasy hair, tattoos, and not much for personal hygiene. Maybe this was karma getting me back for leaving that piece of paper on the ground, or not helping that squirrel off the tree, or maybe not holding the door for old Man Jenkins. Whatever it was I want another chance thought Noah. As soon as we jumped out of the car we heard gun shots. Mike dropped dead and mister tough guy dove behind the car. Wow this was definitely Old Man Jenkins getting back at Noah.

It had been three months since they got to the prison Peter and Noah were the only ones left Mike and Matt had been shot by the guards and Jake died of Malaria. Noah would be sad if three random people died but for the last three months that all that's happened carnage and death on this free for all island. I was beginning to think the world was a utopia but he again stood corrected.

The next day Noah woke up tired, he had been thinking. What am I going to do sit here and die like the others. I know I haven't been a saint in my life but maybe this once I can help. Peter had been on the island since he was ten years old. He had tried to make peace but always failed he wanted Noah to talk. He had been angry at him since Noah always refused. But Noah was used to this because he did not have much skill in getting people to like him. So Noah jogged around to the courtyard to see Peter trying to convince people to get behind the peace effort but it did not look like it was working. Noah got up on the stage made up of old pieces of wood and nails sticking out. As soon as his innocent blue eyes meant Noah's he gestured for him to talk. Noah walked out and looked at the sea of faces. Peter always told Noah these people where special but all he could see was there I-couldn't-care-less looks they had on. “We need peace now” Noah said his voice cracking due to nervousness. I looked out onto their blank faces hoping for some kind of recognition. “Now” I repeated lamely into the megaphone. The crowd erupted into a cheer I don't know how that works. “Maybe it is just my good looks” thought Noah to himself, but everyone knows what comes up must come down. The screams of joy soon turned to terror as a missile rocketed in and hit just behind Noah and spread flames everywhere. Noah was confused as anyone it was not Tuesday or Friday. Shots rang out and Noah felt a sudden jolt and doubled over in pain. Wows check that one off the bucket list. Noah could see the fire everywhere, Noah could taste the sulfur in the air, and he felt as if he had just been shot, oh silly, Noah he has. Noah saw people running like cheetahs to escape the inferno, he could see people tripping one another just to get out first, and he saw people screaming in terror. Peter looked over to me with a dark look and said “This was not the United Nations trying to get rid of us. This was someone else, Noah this fight for peace on this troubled land has only just begun.”

To Be Continued...

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