Chapter 4

It will come as no surprise to most of the readers that this is not only fiction but bald faced lies. The author has been known to stretch the truth past breaking. He is fully aware that Monster Millions is his own creation and does not exist in reality. He is also cognizant of the fact that this an alternate reality. The names might be real ... the people are not. If your name is in here ... it’s not you ... any of you.

Old story. I have read it ... in Regency Romances, even legitimate novels. Westerns use it ... porn uses it. I’ve seen the premise in theater, movies, TV ... just an over worked story line. Something that never happens in real life. I fer sure, never expected it would happen to me. Well, mom ... it’s looking like your predictions are coming true.

“If you don’t change your ways, you will come to a bad end.”

“Mom?”

“Hurry up, dear. You’ll miss the bus. You won’t want to miss the last day of school.”

“Feel my head,” I begged.

“Oh, my God.” She felt my forehead. “You are burning up.”

I vomited.

Then I shit my panties. Excuse me ... evacuated my bowels.

Suddenly, I was the focus of attention.

Daddy sent the other children to school and made arrangements with the neighbors to keep them.

I went to bed sick ... weeks later I woke up, in the hospital, and everyone was shouting, The preacher had laid hands on me and prayed up a storm ... they practically had the choir singing hymns. They had called in a priest to baptize me because the hospital wouldn’t let them dunk me. Everybody was sure I was going to die.

My eyes popped open.

The priest fainted.

I croaked out “Water.”

“Praise God! She’s alive!”

The pastor said, rather smugly, “The age of miracles Isn’t over.”

There was more to it than that ... mom said I’d been sick ... couldn’t wake me ... bed sweats ... chills ... shaking tremors, screaming ... so cold she wrapped me in hot blankets and I tore them off because I was too hot.

She called our family practitioner and described my symptions. He sent an ambulance. They came in wearing hazmat suits.

Nobody knew what I had.

The doctors had tests and tests for the tests. They took so much blood my arms looked like I’d been shooting heroin all my life.

I didn’t know any of it. I was dreaming ... demons and angels were fighting for my soul and I was watching ... dribbling and drooling and speaking in tongues ... gibberish.

And I woke up.