Prisoners of War - Chapter 13

Essay by spoonman419 August 2004

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She was standing over me pushing my chest. My vision was blurry, but I could somehow make out her, she seemed to have a glow around her. She sat me up and waved her hand in front of me. It took me a few minutes to realize that she was holding a joint. was part of a joint. My head fell back against the couch and the top of it hit my wall, I didn't feel a thing.

My eyes closed again I was alone in the darkness. No new world, no visions, just darkness and me. I was there alone for what seemed like forever, taunting myself with paranoid and hateful thoughts. I wanted to open my eyes but couldn't. I thought about everything, my mother, brother, friends... Stacie... I remembered Stacie. I saw Stacie. My eyes were open again.

She was screaming something, still waving the joint in front of my eyes.

I could hear nothing but a whisper. She wanted to know if I smoked the joint. Why did she want to know this...was she going to turn me in? I couldn't have that. I noticed that I could actually control my body when I wanted to, and nodded my head.

She continued to talk, but I didn't understand anything she said. I could see her crying, and felt bad for thinking she was going to turn me in. But she might have called an ambulance. They would find the joint and throw me in jail. I tried to tell her, to warn her to get rid of it, to get rid of it, and I pushed her away running across the room.

I heard a scream from behind me but didn't look back; I ran back in my room and opened the draw to...