Prisoners of War - Chapter 3

Essay by spoonman419 August 2004

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I thought for a split second about running, but the two guns aimed directly at my heart killed that thought pretty fast.

"Get down!" One of them screamed. I held up my hands and was pushed down to my knees. One of them held the gun a few inches away from my face as the other picked up the large ziplock bag and the backpack.

I tried to think of something to say, but couldn't, my mouth was dry my heart was racing and I was one step away from either pissing my pants of bursting out crying. I closed my eyes and tried to imagine myself somewhere else, maybe it was just a dream and I would wake up, but once I felt the cold steel handcuffs's being placed on me and the pain brought me back to reality, I realized that this was no dream. The officer began to read me my right's as the other took the bags and brought them back to the car.

They led me into thier car and put the backpack on the seat next to me, I guess they had put the pot back inside. I tried to see what was in the pack but they had already closed it. I wondered why they were so quiet, from what I had heard they liked to question people, I guess that since they already had what they needed to arrest me they didn't need to ask me any questions.

I kept telling myself to stay calm, that it would work out, I wasn't selling I was buying, though I guess it wouldn't make much difference in me getting in trouble...I could lose my scholarship...I could lose my job, my apartment I just moved into, my car, my life! I sighed and tried...