2 PARTOL TOMORROW...

I stumble towards my car, feeling my once cold beer coming back up. I turn to the bushes and watch with half lidded eyes as the alcohol left my body.

I sit down, feeling exhausted from the 'partying' of the night. I had patrol tomorrow, ugh.

What a gallon of cold water on my parade.

I get up and continue my slow venture to my raven truck. The shiny black coating mocked me from a distance and I just stuck out my tongue. 'Really mature car!'

"Fuck," I cuss. The world seemed to close in on me.

I grab my small flippy thingy and dial 1384 but it didn't call anyone.

My finger slipped on the tiny buttons - why would make something like this so small? - and press the call button.

"Hello, this is the Travis residence," a male voice started.

"I'm drunk!" I giggled, my heart started to feel light again.

"Max?" The man said. "Where are yo-"

A group of girls cheer from the inside of the bar. "Why you gotta be so ruuuddde??!!"

"Oh god. There again?" The man continued. "There are soo many other bars! You have to forget about her, man!"

I felt tears gather at the corners of my eyes. 'Her' hurt. My mind couldn't control my body, I sobbed and sobbed until the man drove up to the bar 15.7 miles from my home. The man, Mr. Travis, picked me up and carried me into his white Sudan.

I sat in shotgun as the man looked at me disappointedly.