Ficly

Cause

Running into the huge wooden playset on the grounds, he made straight for the tube slide. Once inside, he listened carefully to everything around him. It was near the middle of night, so he doubted that any children were left around here.

Once he was sure no one had followed him, and that no one was around, he carefully rolled up his sleeve and examined his arm, which was just then starting to hurt.

The pocketknife must’ve fallen out a while ago. Now, all that was left was a bleeding gash, and a red-stained t-shirt. Jon sighed in relief, seeing that there wasn’t too much blood, and that the wound wasn’t as severe as it could’ve been.

He ripped the sleeve off of his shirt, wrapping it tightly around his upper arm. “All for a good cause,” he said, smiling slightly, as he pulled the money out of his pocket and counted the bills.

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