[ WP ] Instead of prison time , punishment for crimes is a sentence of living in another time period in the past .

All I did was rob a damn store! I needed the money, my kids were starving; I couldn ’ t take their pleading eyes, the rumble of their stomachs. I felt like a failure, so I resorted to drastic measures. I bought an airsoft gun and gently sliced off the orange tip; I never wanted to hurt anyone…I just needed food. I robbed a store; it all went down so easily, until I got outside of the Dunkin Donuts, and, staring at me from the drive through was an officer, probably awaiting his donuts. A hooded man touting a revolver must have seemed very suspicious, as he exited his vehicle and approached me. 
 
 “ What are you doing out so late, boy? ” Inquired the officer, a distinctly southern accent heard on his lips. His icy glare bit into my skin, the soft frown on his face told me everything I needed to know. *He knew*. 
 “ U-u-uh..h…nothing officer! Just headed home ” I stammered out a weak excuse as my heart pounded within my chest. Sweat poured down my face as my hands trembled in nervous anxiety. *This can ’ t be happening. Why did I do this? How will I feed my kids now? * thoughts swirled around with the anxiety to form the perfect recipe for madness. The Officer approached me as the store clerk ran out, pointing wildly at me. 
 
 “ ROBBERY! THIS MAN IS A ROBBER ” the man ’ s piercing wail assaulted my ears. A lump formed in my throat. I stopped breathing. A tear fell silently down my cheek. My kids would surely perish, or be forgotten and abused in some foster home. This was the end. 
 
 “ I knew something was off about you, boy. You ’ re under arrest ” the Officer snarled. I could feel the iciness of the words sink into my soul. It was over. I felt the cool metal around one of my wrists as both my arms were wrenched behind my back. A soft click was heard as the lock was shut. I was trapped. There was no escape. Grabbing me roughly around the waist, the officer forced me roughly into the car, slamming me roughly into the top on the way. Stars danced across my vision as I fell onto the seat. He secured me in place and entered the front seat, the engine starting with a gentle purr. 
 
 “ P-p-please, my kids are starving, I only did it to save them! ” I pleaded, hoping that this heartless man would hear my plight. He only ignored me, occasionally stopping to glare at me through the rear-view mirror. I could feel the hate emanating from the officer. I began to hyperventilate as true realization had set in. My last memory is of the hard cloth covered seat slamming into my pounding head, as I felt the blood from my earlier wound drip slowly onto the floor of the car, and the feeling of that frozen hateful stare of the officer upon my pitiful state. 
 
 I awoke with a start to an unfamiliar ceiling. Everything was painted an awful beige, except for the metal bars that showed a dimly lit hallway, and the barred window that told me it was still night. Realization of where I was set In as memories of last night flooded back into my mind. This is a holding cell. I could hear footsteps approaching. The clicking of heels on cold tile grew louder and louder until a shadow loomed at the cell door of my prison. 
 
 “ Oh, I ’ m surprised to see you ’ re awake James, it ’ s time for your case to be heard. ” The officer from earlier says icily. As he ends his sentence, the sound of metal on metal is heard as the cell door is thrown violently open. The officer steps calmly inside and grabs me by my collar, dragging me slowly behind him. I cough and choke as my ability to breathe is shut off, he whirls me around and pushes me forward, my head slamming into the tile. I cough and sputter violently as I try to get up, however he places his foot firmly into my back. He rolls me over and I can see a look of absolute hate plastered onto his face. I see him raise his foot, 
 
 “ NO, please no! ” I shout, instinctively, however my pleas fall on death ears, he slams his foot into my abdomen forcing me to cough up blood. He pulls me roughly to my feet again and leads me to the courtroom. The judge sits quietly, looking at my disheveled state as if it is nothing new. 
 
 “ Don ’ t mind the injuries your honor, he attempted to escape on the way here, thought he had the element of surprise. ” I was enraged by the injustice of it all, how everything was being pinned on me. The judges stare adopted an icy stone as if he suddenly saw me as scum. 
 
 “ W-w-wheres my pub -- -- “ I was cut off by a punch to the gut. I fell to my knees, choking once again. The judge pretended not to notice the incident and began the hearing. I couldn ’ t pay attention, I was too angered, too hurt. I was never called to the stand and nor were any witnesses. A simple sentence was given out, something that forced me to attention. “ You will be sent to the year 1939, as a Jew in Nazi Germany. ” 
 
 My mind was still reeling from the news as two men in white coats dragged me off through the exit. They dragged me out of the building and to a white, windowless van. I was thrown roughly into the van, and passed out. 
 
 I awoke to another unfamiliar ceiling. I sat up in bed rubbing my groggy head, the pain of everything that had happened recently coming back to me. A woman I did not recognize lie asleep next to me, in a similar state. Her head had several bruises near the forehead, and she was bruised heavily on the stomach. Her injuries told me she was like me. A criminal sent here to die as punishment. 

