Prisoners of War - Chapter 8

I sighed, fumbling with the tie and moved over to my mirror admiring the suit I wore. I hadn't worn it since my dad's funeral, and had hoped that I would never have to again, but I did. I checked my watch wondering where Mike was and sluggishly made my way downstairs and plopped on the couch. I didn't want to go to this trial... I sighed looking at the pipe and bad of weed. …

…parking lot. I stared off into space and sighed, wiping my eye before I started crying right there. "I have to go to work." I said softly. "What? Don't you have any sick days?" I shook my head. "I only had two, and I used them on Tuesday and Wednesday. I had to even call in late today, if I don't show up I'm going to get fired." Mike just nodded. "I'll drop you off."