Believe it or not, Sam was ready. Before time, too. Everything she needed for the camp was packed in the duffel bag. A baseball bat was in the place of the bottle pocket in her back strap bag and a steel bottle was in her hand.

Sam was sure she was the fittest, and she was ready to prove it.

The plan was to drop by at the camp from a helicopter. But Sam didn't really know where the camp was, and her family wasn't rich enough so her mom had dropped her off at the bus stop instead. ("be good, sweety," she had said. Which is not what tough moms should tell their cool, tough children in front of other people. It's embarrassing).

And bus had to be the most boring means of transport. What did a bus even have? What was a tough kid supposed to do in a bus?

Nothing.

And yet, there she was, under the heat of the sun, waiting for a stupid bus to come to the stupid bus stop and pick her up. And when the bus did arrive, Sam felt stupider then ever.

There was "SURVIVAL OF THE FITTEST" spray painted on it with gothic font, but in neon green, which clashed with the yellow colour on the bus. Just when Sam was starting to regret her poor life choices, the door slid open and out hopped a burly man.
Apart from the colourful, flowery shirt he was wearing, there was nothing remotely cheerful about him.  Big, burly, tanned and angry, the camp couldn't have hired better.
"Get in," he growled.

Sam didn't need to told twice. She scurried in with a barely concealed squeak.

The driver spat on the ground before boarding after her, glowering.

Before Sam could get a window seat, because that was just about the only good thing about a bus, the driver slammed his foot down on the accelerator and she landed face first on the floor.

"What the—"

What expletives came out of her mouth, even Sam didn't know, because right at that moment, Mr. Dev started roaring.
She tried to push herself up but the bus took a sudden turn and rolled over a speed bump. With that, Sam found her face planted yet again on the floor of the bus.

"What's wrong with this dude," Sam asked a really shiny black shoe right beside her face.

"Can't say I know, kid. What I do know is that it's best if you get up and seat yourself," the shoe replied.

"I didn't know shoes could talk," Sam mumbled

Someone grabbed her arm and hauled her up.

"Shoes can't, but I can." The man looked pale and exhausted. "And I say, it's going to be a long ride, so just sit down quietly and don't tumble around, yea?"

"Not like I was doing that on purpose."

"Whatever. Just sit down quietly."

Sam really wanted to protest but she didn't. Mainly because he looked too weak, and it seemed wrong to trouble him anymore. And he was anyway right about the long journey. So sitting quietly was what she did.

Except that she couldn't. Mr. Dev , that was the driver's name according to the man (who introduced himself as "Just Connor"), was going bonkers by the minute. He was raging and cursing and roaring. And while that usually wouldn't be a problem to Sam (her dad was like that when he was driving too), this dude was bad at driving.

"I am asking this again," Sam said, leaning forward so Connor could hear her over all the noise, "what is wrong with that guy?"

He looked like he didn't want to talk. And green. "He likes listening to songs when he's driving. Couldn't find a good one. Hence the mood," he mumbled

Maybe I can help him, Sam thought.

And that was a decision she would soon come to regret.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"Who uses CDs in this time and age?" Sam cried, as dozens of them fell out of the glovebox. One of them had a very...questionable looking cover. 

Sam shuddered and shoved it back in. "Dude, there are way too many of these in here. Can't you just tell me which song you want to listen to and I can search for it in Spotify or something? Without getting scarred for life?"

Dev's glare was enough of an answer.

"Okay how about this one," Sam mumbled, swiftly pulling out a random CD and shoving it in the player. "I am sure you'll like it."

It was Bohemian Rhapsody.

Mr. Dev stiffened. He was gripping the steering wheels harder now.

"Okay, maybe not this one. You probably want something that sounds a tad bit more cheerful than this," Sam said nervously. Just as she was about to change the song, Dev slammed down on the accelerator again. And Sam found herself lying on her back. Again.

"I think he likes it," a weak voice floated next to her ear, gently sitting down on her shoulder, tired.

It was Connor again. In the few minutes that Sam had been trying to help out Mr. Dev, Connor had managed to look like he might drop dead any moment. He definitely looked paler.His hand was cold against her wrist as he forced her on the seat in front of him.

"He's driving much better now, so please stop bothering him. And me. Please."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Her head was pounding and no amount of chocolates could fix that.  The song was on loop for the 100th time and Sam did not like it.

"When are we going to reach the camp?" Sam asked Connor. He was looking considerably better now. Mr. Dev had been driving well for a couple of hours now, and Connor had eaten a Cheese sandwich which was still miraculously inside him.

"We're almost there."
"That's what you said when we crossed the bridge an hour ago."
Connor looked up from his phone to glare at her. "Patience, child."

"That's hard to do when I am forced to listen to the same stupid song over and over again. I am actually starting to mouth the lines now! It's horrible."

"It's not a bad song, Sam. Just cope."

"I swear," Sam said, ignoring him entirely, "if I hear that stupid line once again I'll end up killing—"

Is this the real life?

Is this just fantasy?

"—someone," Sam finished, gritting her teeth. "That's it."

She grabbed the baseball bat from her bag and got up from her seat

"Wait Sam stop! You can't actually—"

Caught in a land slide

Connor attempt to hold her back was futile. He was older but between an adult who was barely surviving on a cheese sandwich and a 14 year old hyperactive kid overflowing with energy, He had no chance to begin with.

No escape from reality

He was pushed out of the way roughly.

Open your eyes

"I am sorry," Sam mumbled, standing right behind the driver's seat.

Look up to the skies and see...

Mr. Dev looked up right in time to see Sam through the rear view mirror, poised with her arms up in the air, a baseball bat clutched tightly in her hands.

In his moment of panic, he swerved the bus to the left too fast with his foot still on the accelerator. There was a collective scream from other passengers.

And Sam lost her footing.

'Cause I am easy come, easy go.

The bat came down hard on Mr. Dev's head. A thud, followed by a honk and the bus rolled down to a halt.

Little high, little low

Mr. Dev's foot was no longer pressing down on the accelerator. It was lying limp on the pedal.

A beat of silence, and then—

"You killed him?" Connor was on the floor, fruit juice was spilled over him. Everyone else was looking at Sam too and they all had the same expression. Wide eyes, pale faces.

Plain fear.

"N-no," Sam whispered. "I-I was aiming for the CD player but then he swerved and then it all turned around and I don't know how, I don't know why, it just..."

A woman from the back stood up.

"...I never meant to..I didn't hate him. He—"

Anyway the wind blows...

"—does really matter to me!" Sam shouted over the song. "I am not a murderer."

She was starting to shake now. And Mr. Dev was still lying limp on the seat, head pressed against the steering wheel.

The woman pushed her aside and crouched down beside Mr. Dev.

"Uh, kid..."

"I am.." tears were starting to flow now. "I am a murderer."
Mama, just killed a man...

"I killed him."

Put a gun against his head, pulled my trigger now he's dead

"I want to see my mom one last time," Sam said through the tears. "She wanted me to be good and I...I just want to tell her that..."

If I'm not back again this time tomorrow

"I love her. She's the best mom ever. And I want to say sorry." And with that she broke down.

"Sammy, Dev didn't die," the woman was now crouching beside her, "He was severely dehydrated. I took care of it."

What?

Sam turned around to see Mr. Dev propped straight against the seat. His collar button was undone and so was his belt buckle. He was starting to stir now.

"Ah, he's up. I'll give him some water. But you don't need to worry. None of it's your fault." She smiled kindly down at her. "By the way, we have reached the camp."

Still teary eyed, Sam glanced out of the window and it was only now that she noticed the vast ocean outside.

Nothing really matters, Anyone can see

Nothing really matters,

Nothing really matters to me

Any way the wind blows...