Prisoners of War - Chapter 9

Essay by spoonman419 August 2004

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I carefully left the car and waved to Mike that I was ok. He waved back and after I closed the door I watched him pull away and drive down the block. I took a deep breath and turned around and sluggishly went inside.

I worked at party city, just a small store that sold party supplies, balloons, plates and other things like that. After a couple of hours of stock duty, I was put behind the register to fill the balloons. Luckily it was the middle of September, so very few people were looking for party supplies, except for the occasional birthday party.

The paranoia had long worn off, and I began to enjoy my high again sitting there. The high was different though, more of a body high then mind. I was content just sitting there, watching the workers and shoppers move around, partake in their lives.

Shop and talk, talk and laugh, laugh and shop. Life...

"Excuse me?" I jumped out of my trance and turned over to see a girl chuckling at me. I gasped and wiped my eyes sitting up strait and coughed. How long had she been there trying to get my attention.

"I'm sorry, what do you need?" I asked trying to open my eyes all the way, while clicking the keyboard a few times in an attempt to make myself seem busy.

"Its ok." She paused. "Wait a minute, Chris? Chris O'Reily?"

I looked up from the computer really for the first time only really acknowledging her. "Yea...who are you?"

She screamed slightly and with it my eyes opened wide and I glanced around nervously to see if anyone had heard it. "Oh my god wow, it me, Stacie, trig class?"

I thought for a second, which was all I needed.