5

*CLANG* There I go again.....it seems every time I have something important to do I have to go and black out. Jobe was not all that surprised about the perplexed state he awoke in. His liquor binges tend to put him in these situations. Was he dreaming? Had all he just thought of been a dream? Since when did Marc work for the russian mafia? Time had become very distorted since his drinking binges became an everyday occurrence, he wasn't quite sure what was real anymore. From what he could make out his room was dark....Oh no....not again...I hope I made it home without Marc realizing it. Jobe, distraught, tired, and in desperate need of a shower, got up and looked around not really realizing what he had gotten himself into. And then it set in.....the cold, damp floor was unfamiliar....and Jobe did not recall his bed being so stiff, he fooled around on the bed and picked up his glasses....I hate being fucking blind without these things....the picture began to clear and suddenly Jobe realized he was no where near home, what he once thought were walls were merely bars intricately placed keeping him in like a caged animal....he had somehow ended up in a jail cell.
"HELLO?", Jobe yelled through the bars, pleading desperately for an answer.
"Pipe down over there! Some of us are actually trying to sleep pal."
"I'm sorry but can you please tell me where I am?", Jobe was desperate for answers.
"How the hell do you not where you are boy? You're in the finest penitentiary the state has to offer, South Harmon Penitentiary. Welcome to hell." The ominous voice let out a cackle that only a true southern hick could make. Thousands of thoughts came flowing through his head like a dam giving way. How the hell did I end up here and how the hell am I gonna be able to stay with Elizabeth after this. She's already put up with so much shit from me and this was my last chance.....Jobe's unsteady hand told him it was time for a smoke and he felt through his pockets for that cold, metal case of goodness....His pockets gave way to nothing but lint and an old receipt...Fuck me! They took my cigarettes?!...How could things get any worse..