Sometimes life hands you a hand of cards, and you're not exactly sure how to play them.

Perhaps it might be a queen, king and ace all of them diamonds, and you're wondering whether it would be worth it to try and go for a royal flush. A massive risk, with low chance of winning. Other times, you decide to try and go for just pairs, or even four of a kind, a safe bet, but still there is a chance of someone getting better than you.

And that's if you get a good hand. Other times you don't even know how to play it, wondering if life perhaps didn't shuffle the cards properly, or life was giving you a bad hand because the house always wins. Perhaps you weren't even sure how to play poker, and you were just trying to keep your hand as long as possible.

I never liked poker much anyway. It was too much about chance, hoping that you would get something. Whenever you won, you would still be taking something from someone else. Marie used to love it however, although there were certain restrictions surrounding gambling at school, Marie liked to find loopholes.

She would manage to convince a few other people to play. A quiet girl, named Georgia or Georgina, who never spoke much. It always was curious why Marie invited her, until one day, she put down her deck of cards and revealed she had a straight flush.

"Cheater!" a boy called Tyler with roughed up brown hair had accused her then, claiming she held cards up her sleeve. Georgia had just smiled in response, looking somewhat embarrassed. Marie had seemed somewhat impression too.

"She's just good," another boy called Henry said. He was a little bit like Scott, although definitely more open and extroverted than him. Henry was usually good at playing and he often would call Tyler out for playing poorly.

One Thursday, Marie had brought the usual few around. I still hadn't known them well, although it seemed the only reason Marie liked them was because she didn't have to explain the rules every time. There had also been another girl, Amelia, who always seemed to speak when she wasn't even asked.

I had found her dreadfully annoying. Marie didn't seem to mind, and neither did the boys. Of course, we were all young, so the most important things in everyone's mind was what they thought of you. Amelia always took it a step further, laughing obnoxiously at things that hardly resembled humour.

But Marie liked her, so I had to pretend to like her too.

I had to pretend to like the way she spoke about herself constantly, pretend that her awful attempts at humour were ground-breaking. She always talked to you as if you were a child that didn't understand, a demeaning tone when she explained things to you, even if you didn't ask.

However, on that Thursday, Amelia didn't show up. And then the days after that. Days turned to weeks, which turned to months, which turned to years. Amelia simply disappeared. Marie pretended she never existed, so I had to pretend too.

"Check this out," Marie had said on the Thursday afternoon, unzipping her pencil case which she usually carried to every class. Her hair had been fairly long then, braided back, a strand of hair drifting in front of her eyes. Out of her pencil case, tumbled what seemed to be hundreds of bread ties.

Whenever we played cards, we would all sit down on one of the patios outside our classroom on the outskirts of the school. A sea of maroon uniforms huddled together, roughed up cards on a small plastic lid to stop them from falling down the cracks of the wooden deck.

"We can use betting chips!" Marie had said, equally handing out a few handfuls of bread clips. They had some code on the end, although it seemed to be common things like expiry dates or manufacturing codes, "I'd saved them every time my Mom bought bread,"

"Chips?" Georgina had asked quietly. Had Amelia been here, she likely would have spoken before Marie had a chance, going off about how she knew so much about it. It was silent, however, and it seemed not even the boys knew what Marie meant.

"Basically, every time you play, you have to either match the bet amount, raise it, or you fold," she began to explain, beaming. She continued, "My Dad said it's really fun. He goes to the casino every night and says that they use chips there too,"

"My Mom said that those places are dangerous," Tyler had said, staring down at his handful of bread clips. I noticed that a few of them appeared to be different colours, "She said that's where hookers go and men go to- well. She never really said but she had been really angry,"

"Oh! I've heard of hookers!" Marie had said excitedly. I didn't know the word then, but with hindsight, it definitely felt odd. She had continued as if she was sharing a secret, "My Dad said those were his favourite part. He didn't tell me much though,"

The conversation seemed to change then to continue the game, none of us knowing half of the phrases we had spoken about. Then, a few months later, we stopped playing cards. Apparently Marie's Mom found out about it, and I drifted apart from the rest. I always stayed close to Marie though, even after we stopped playing cards.

After all, she had been my best friend.

In some way, I did miss playing cards. I couldn't help but be reminded whenever I saw the card that Jake used to bookmark his page. I always wanted to ask if he wanted to play, but it seemed that much more complicated things always got in the way.

Scott and I didn't talk much on the way back, although that had become the usual. It felt easier to not be expected to talk. That night had been relatively laid back, and Jake had made a dish with some noodles and vegetables. We watched the news for a bit, but I didn't feel like talking to him about anything.

Strangely, this Fox thing was something I wanted to keep to myself, even for just a little while.

That night, as well, had begun the same. Jake would read, and I would reach over his shoulder. It was clear that I had missed a fair chunk of the plot, the main characters sliding between dream worlds at will. I found my eyes drifting from the words to the playing card that Jake twirled in his hands.

Perhaps I would ask Scott if he wanted to play.

I would have to buy a deck of cards, something which would only cost a credit. Perhaps after work we could head to the store and buy it, go back to the food district and play for a few hours. Although I didn't have any bread clips, perhaps it would be easier to not bet.

That night, however, I had an odd dream. A dream where, instead of being the main character of a story, I was the spectator, drifting between a narrative happening in front of my eyes. I soon realized that it was a casino, at least from what I assumed to be.

There was lots of flashing lights, heavy ringing and artificial sound effects playing loudly. Neon signs hung on the walls, a fox head, a tail curled around it. A few women sat down on a sofa underneath it, but it didn't appear to be a normal sofa. It was draped in purple silk, and it took me a moment to realize how poorly dressed they were.

They were practically naked, lying down on these long sofas as if they were in the comfort of their own home. Netting that they wore like stockings climbed their legs, and I found myself looking away. Although I seemed to be aware it was a dream, it was difficult not to feel as though I shouldn't be seeing them.

There was a round table in the centre, chairs around it. The cloth on the table was a deep blue, cards in each players hand and bread clips used as betting ships. I recognized some of the faces too. Marie, Tyler, Amelia, Henry and Georgia. They looked just as I had remembered them.

I suppose it was because I never saw them ever get older than that.

Then, a scream, a gunshot. The ladies who fell across the sofas like lions on a tree jumped up, wailing. But the players at the table didn't move. The sound effects, however loud they were, became drowned out by the shots and wailing. But I couldn't move, I was just observing.

"My Mom said that those places are dangerous," Tyler said, taking a small collection of bread clips and moving them to the centre. I tried to yell, plead at them to run, hearing those boots pounding on the pavement as they moved through the house. But they seemed caught up in the conversation, unaware of the surrounding chaos, "She said that's where hookers go and men go to- well. She never really said but she had been really angry,"

"Oh! I've heard of hookers!" Marie said, and I flinched at how ignorant we had been. This conversation, repeating in my mind. Seeing these children so young talking about things which were surely not appropriate. Amelia had left the circle at this point, although it didn't seem anyone had noticed, "My Dad said those were his favourite part. He didn't tell me much though,"

The door swung open, the sign that had hung above the sofas crashed to the floor. Glass shattered, and the orange and red hues spilt from it, covering the floor in a rapidly expanding mist. There was a few more bangs, and as I looked to the table, I wanted to scream. But I couldn't. All I could do was watch.

There was a gunshot in each of their foreheads, a hole that oozed blood, lifeless eyes stared forward. They didn't seem to notice, simply playing the game. The guards filled the room, although they didn't feel like people. It was like a swarm of rats, dirty fur pressed against me. I could no longer see the players at the table, or the cards, or even the neon sign.

There was a gunshot, and I jumped up, awoken suddenly. The dream left me in a haze, my heart pumping, still on high alert as if I still had to run and hide. I looked down to my watch to see the alarm ringing loudly in my ears.

And whether I was ready, it was time to face another day. And who knew what disasters would follow.