“Go to Las Vegas, take a break, let’s have some fun.” Max told me, knowing what I’m prone to. What was once viewed as debilitating, became my strongest asset. As long as I can remember, I’ve tended to fixate on things, more than the normal. I was diagnosed with ADHD at six years old, but with the severity only being mild and support from my family, I’m pretty high functioning. My hyperfixations led me to score high marks in almost everything I do. From school, sports, and games, I strived to be the absolute best.

  It was the spring of my senior year in high school. Up until now, I’ve been a straight A student, dean’s list every semester. Every class has been AP or Honors, I’ve earned my Seal of Biliteracy in Spanish and Mandarin, and chosen to be Valedictorian. I’ve laid out my plan for my life, and the pieces are fitting just right. I haven’t felt the struggle of a rogue piece trying to force itself to fit in ages.

  Until, at least, Max recommended that we visit Las Vegas during spring break. We’ve been friends since middle school and he wanted to celebrate my hard work these last couple of years, and truthfully, I yearned to shut my brain off even if it’s for a few days. I had plenty of money saved up, and my parents approved of the trip, so there was no reason to say no.

  What I didn’t realize is how infatuated I would be with Caesars Palace, specifically, the casino. Now, I’ve never been the type to break the law, but every synapse in my brain fired off demanding that I sneak in with Max, it was his plan. Just in case, he made us fake IDs.

  The glittering lights, the massive and attractive machines, people barely legal to gamble all the way up to the elderly with every inch of their skin wrinkled were strewn about. Beautiful women blowing on dice, men in their fancy tailored suits dropping stacks of money all for the chance to hit big. I never wanted to leave. Max had left to do his own thing while I found comfort in a gold-color plated slot machine. For hours, I sat there pressing that flashing button and watching the wheels spin. Fruits, bells, bars, and sevens reflected off of my eyes, I hardly blinked because I feared I’d miss the biggest moment of my life. I’d lose some, get some back, and the cycle continued. For hours I sat there, waiting for the seven-lettered word to set my spirits aflame, ‘Jackpot’. At some point, I realized the playlist the casino uses had repeated twice. The ‘Spin’ text on the button was smudged and left a black substance on my index finger. My throat and eyes felt brittle and my head was pounding. I reached into my pocket and felt nothing. Like a butcher tying up a chicken, I felt my stomach squeeze in on itself. My panicking caught the attention of a guard, who after a quick look at me, knew I wasn’t of age. I didn’t even get to try my fake ID. I was promptly kicked out of the casino, actually, the palace itself. Guards at the door made sure I would never step back in.

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  My mind was in a blaze, I was dissatisfied. I really, really, REALLY wanted to win that jackpot, but it never showed itself to me. This discontentment, this need to finish the task set out before me caused my downward spiral into self-destruction. In a tucked away corner of the strip, I made my own slot machine using scraps and garbage I found. I’d simply close my eyes and move the pieces at random to simulate the RNG aspect, even with this jank set up, I never won.

  Minutes turned to hours, hours to days, days to weeks. Because of my fixation, I didn’t realize my phone was missing. Maybe it slipped out of my pocket, or someone stole it, regardless, I have nothing, just one of thousands homeless people on the strip. Not many even turn to look at me, and less offer help. In order to survive, I have to get up and find the police and ask for help…but not until I win big. I have to, I must, wait, where’s Max? Screw it, nothing else matters until I finally win.

  I’m so thirsty, and I’m even hungrier. I would love to stuff myself full with food, but that comes second to this.

  I must win, and I’ll die trying if that’s what it takes.

  It wasn’t long before I actually did die. Starvation ultimately got to me. In the end, my last thought was a giant feast paid for by my jackpot. Sorry mom and dad, I know you’ll hear about me soon, and I know it will tear you to pieces. But I’ll be waiting to reunite once again. And mom, please bring some of your meat-on-a-stick, I’ve been craving it for weeks now.