Jail Break

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"Joy... We've talked about this." My mother sighed. "When you're 18, you choose to go to college or not. You chose not to, but you need a job." She continued.

"But I work at a-" My mom cut me off. "And working in a gas station isn't working."

"Alright... I will look for a job..." I hesitated. My mom smiled at me. I gave a weak smile back, standing up. My mom tossed me the car keys and I strolled out the door with a single wave. When I got into the car, I applied just a bit of makeup. Then, I zoomed of without a word.

When I finally stopped in the town center, I went into the small building.

"Hi, I'm Loretta. What would you like to know?" A skinny women said to me. "Are there any jobs at the moment?" I asked.

"I'll check!" She said, cheerfully sprinting towards her computer. She sat down in a chair and scrolled down the web page.

"Well, yes, someone just quit working at a gas station.." She trailed off. "That was me who quit." I said, sheepishly. "Are you looking for big money?" She asked.

"Uh, yes." I said quietly. She nodded. "We do have a job as a high quality chef..." She said. "The best thing I can cook is a peanut butter sandwich!" I joked.

She laughed a bit, but carried on. "The only other job we have.. Is to work as a prison guard." She hesitated. My eyes widened. "Uh, I don't think-" I started, but then I thought about mom. "How much would I get a week?" I asked.

"You'd get about... $3500 a week." She told me. I looked at her in surprise. "Wow."

"It's only because you could hurt yourself in this job. And if you do... The government pays for your hospital bill."

"I'll take the job." I smiled. She clicked a few buttons then said, "Your interview is in two days." I nodded, scurrying back to my car. I checked the clock. It was the afternoon. Dang, how long did i take?

Lunch time was almost over, so I rode down to the nearest 'Chick-fil-a' there was and parked. I ordered a chicken sandwich and fries, then I got a 'Mountain Dew' soda.

I took a sip at my soda as I but down into the sandwich. As soon as I finished, I threw away my trash and skipped back to the car. Injecting the keys, I clicked on the radio to listen to 'One Direction'. Ever since a band mate, Niall Horan, had gone to jail, the band fell apart just like that.

No one knew why Niall was in prison, but they know he's serving for two years. No one even knows where that prison is! I sang along to their 2012 album, 'Take Me Home' and drove back to my house.

As soon as I exited the car, my mom dropped the bomb on me.

"What job did you get? When's the interview? How much do you get a week?"

"Mom... You might not like my job... But I get $3500 a week..." I said.

"As long as you're not a stripper it's okay." My mom said.

"And $3500 a week? Dang, what job is it?"

"Mom, I'm going to be working as a prison guard." I said.

"A prison guard? You're gonna get hurt!" My mom said.

"It's ok if I do, because the government is paying for the hospital bill if that happens. The interview is in two days."

"Alright.. But if you die, I'm suing them." She said.

I nodded and tossed the keys back to her, jogging into the house.

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