Monster Cash

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Here l was sitting on a smelly bus riding to compete for yet again another chance to win a lot of money, but this time it was to win a million dollars. Of course the money wasn't necessarily intended of my goal, but the chance to be on national television fighting with a bunch of teens watching me beat every one of them gave me the thrill. It's like being at camp again, but this time it'll be different.

Everyone here is my enemy. Except for the few who counted. Still, no one was to be trusted. This time I had to look out for myself. This time, I was to start anew. It was a rebirth. This time things were going to change, and it was all going to fall into my favor.

Some time after the attack, my hand was wrapped in bandages once Chris finally let the paramedics take me. My hand needed sutures, costing about over seventeen stitches alone. The only remaining part of my hand was my thumb and the half my second finger. My father ordered the doctors to get me a prosthetic fix for the loss of my hand.

I was able to receive bionic fingers to replace what was gone. It interlaced with the remaining nerves in my arm regaining full muscle control. It had individual finger movement which was awesome when I eventually got the hang of it.

All that was done was a few metallic features extended to my body. It made me feel like I was part cyborg. Thankfully it wasn't a leg. There would've been no way to easily recover from that. I'm just grateful it wasn't the rest of me.

The bus screeched to a stop. The driver yelled at us to hurry to get off, angrily as usual. That man is seriously creased. He had a stick up his butt the minute we all filled in on the bus. As the first person to get on, he had a blank, pissed off stare. He was not a happy man.

Being in the front, I was the first to get off the bus as Duncan followed after behind me.

"Where are we?" I muttered under my breath, looking around the empty lot.

The smell of old sneakers and gasoline filled the air. It was crisp and dry, a slight breeze barely picking at my curls.

Duncan inhaled the air before commenting, "Man, I miss the smell of the city."

"What's to miss?" I scoff. "The petroleum fuel laminating through the air stinking up the environment, or the inevitable violent crimes that cops don't put behind bars because they're too busy bailing their buddies out for being busted for the same thing? I could go on."

"All of it." Duncan shrugged, his eyes wandering around the perimeter, appearing quite bored.

"Step off." snapped Heather as she glared at Gwen who were both up each other's rear end as they walked into each other practically at the same time as they got off the bus.

"You step off." Gwen gritted her teeth, growling as it egged her to do the same.

"Ow!" yelped Harold after colliding into LeShawna. "Sorry, LeShawna."

"No harm done." She waved off casually.

The bus quickly drove away leaving us alone in the middle of absolute nowhere on an empty lot. We stood around looking quite stupid doing nothing.

"Where are we?" I questioned.

"And where is everybody?" added LeShawna.

I scratched my hand only realizing it was the prosthetic. It's been bothering me with random itches that didn't exist all because my hand was no longer there. However it sure feels like it never left.

"Uh, maybe we got off at the wrong stop?" said Gwen coming up with her own theory.

"That broken down bus only had one stop." said Justin jabbing a thumb in the direction where the bus went.

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