Then she looked over to her mother. She blinked, frowned. Where on earth was she?She looked at her father and was shocked, the cup falling from her ha...d.The heavy chair was neatly placed on the opposite side of the bed. Her mother’s hands clasped one hand of her father, and his other hand rested on hers. Her lips touched the back of his hand. The oxygen mask lay on the floor, still gently hissing its life supporting air. Her father's face had smoothed, his skin many years younger. A smile was. Luckily he has a good paying job at home, and my brother has a job, hes 18, but still lives at home. We don't mind we like him home. But for the life of me, for the last month I can't figure out why daddy won't let me stay out late, or go anywhere for that matter! I hope to find out soon, very soon. Now... lets see if I can win this fight and get out of the stinking house!"Daddy please!" I whine to daddy, "Why can't I go? I haven't been out in a month almost!" I give up and plop down onto the. Finally, after an excruciating 45 minutes and several false alarms, a car turned in and slowly came up the driveway. It stopped directly below me and set there, lights on for almost five minutes. I couldn’t see into the car at all because of the glare from the headlights, but it seemed obvious that Sandy had received a ride home and was having a conversation with her driver friend, whoever it was. I almost left my observation post and headed for bed, but inertia held me in place a bit longer.. Being a correctional officer at the super max prison buried 3 miles under the Rocky Mountains outside of Boulder, Colorado was an extremely demanding job, even for Marcos: A raging mythological beast of a man. Standing six feet two inches at the top of his head, which was topped with a usual mess of thick dark brown hair, he resembled something that would be more at place swinging a battle axe on some green grassed, ancient battlefield than a civilized man driving a truck to and from work day.