DUI

You pull out of the parking lot, the tires screeching slightly as you turn onto the main road. You glance at the clock on the dashboard and realize that you have only a few minutes to make it home before your landlord arrives. You press down on the gas pedal, trying to make up for lost time.

As you drive, you see a block from your apartment, police lights come on behind you. Your heart skips a beat, and you quickly check your speedometer to make sure you're not going over the limit. You see that you're driving at the speed limit, but the police car continues to follow you.

You start to feel a sense of panic rising in your chest. You think about the drinks you had at the bar, and you wonder if the bartender served you too much. You start to feel a sense of dread, thinking that you might get pulled over and arrested for a DUI.

He opens the door and asks you to get in, which seems strange but you do it. The cruiser is much cleaner and more well-maintained than you would have expected. The officer sits down in the driver's seat and turns to face you.

"I'm going to need you to take a breathalyzer test," he says, his voice still stern but not unkind. You nod, feeling your heart race as you take the device and breathe into it. The officer watches the readings on the device, his expression unreadable.

"You're well over the legal limit," he says after a moment, his voice still stern.

You feel your heart sink, the panic rising in your chest. "Please officer, my house is right up the block," you say, your voice shaking. "I can't afford to lose my license. I promise I won't do it again."

The officer looks at you for a moment, his expression unreadable. "I'm afraid that's not how it works," he says, his voice still stern. "You're going to have to come with me."

You feel tears prick at the corners of your eyes, but you blink them back, trying to stay strong. "Please, officer," you say, your voice barely above a whisper.