Hi, my name is Mason Moungie, I’m 15 years old, and I’ve always worked hard for everything I have. In 2023, after saving every dollar I could, I bought my dream dirt bike—a 2021 Yamaha YZ85. It was basically brand new, and I took care of it like it was my world.

I barely rode it because I wanted to keep it in perfect shape. As I got older, I eventually outgrew the bike, so my dad, Ryan, and I decided to sell it and put the money toward a bigger one I’ve been saving up for.

After months of it being listed on Facebook Marketplace, someone using the name “Stacy Mullenberg” messaged my dad. They seemed completely legit—calling us, talking about how the bike was for a hardworking 17-year-old with straight A’s, even offering full price and to pay extra for delivery. We truly believed it was going to another kid who deserved it.

Yesterday, after school, my dad picked me up, and we loaded the bike into our truck and drove two hours to deliver it. I remember feeling sick on the way—sad to let it go—but at least it would help me move forward toward my next bike.

When we got there… everything felt wrong. We pulled up to a run-down house in a sketchy area. He limped off the porch (he didn’t come from inside). The guy did not look like the person from Marketplace. He was about a 20–30-year-old Black male with a big bonnet covering his dreads, baggy clothing, about 5’7”, and pretty skinny. He handed me the money, and I counted it. He checked out the bike, but shortly after asked for the money back and said it was too small and didn’t look as clean as he thought it did on Marketplace—mind you, it was barely ridden.

Shortly after, he asked how much he should pay us for coming out since he didn’t seem interested. After I told him it’s basically brand new and I never really rode it, he asked me if I could hop in the bed and start it—so I did… first kick. The guy gave us fist bumps because of that and seemed super chill. Then he asked us to take it off the truck so he could check it out some more.

We unloaded it, and he asked me if I could just take it to the end of the street, so I hopped on it and rode it. Once I got done, he thought some more, then again asked me if I could take it for one more rip. So I rode it down the street again, and when I got back, he had the money in hand.

He checked out the bike one more time and said, “I’ll buy it.” Then he asked if he could ride it, and I said sure. He set the “money” on the bed of the truck, got on the bike, reassured us he’d be right back, started it, and took off in a wheelie.

In that moment, my dad and I looked at each other like “what just happened?” I ran over to the envelope, opened it up, and there were shredded lottery tickets and random paper inside. I knew right then we had just gotten robbed. The first thought that came to my mind was how much of a stupid mistake that was. All the money that I spent years earning was gone in seconds.

My dad and I just stood there, heartbroken. We had driven two hours, believed everything he said, and did everything right—except trusting the wrong person. We left empty-handed with nothing but the title, a police report, and an envelope filled with shredded paper. I was so mad at myself. This was only the second thing we’ve ever sold on Marketplace. We had no idea how common scams were. I still feel sick to my stomach writing this. I worked so hard for that bike… and just like that, it was stolen from me.

I’m not just asking for money—I’m asking for a chance to fix something that I never thought would happen to me. I’ve always earned what I own. I paid for that bike with my own hard work, and I was planning to use the money from it to step up to something bigger I’ve been saving for.

Right now, I feel violated, embarrassed, and defeated. I know I made a mistake trusting someone, but I honestly just wanted to sell my bike so I could keep moving toward my dreams of riding.

I never thought I’d be in a position where I’d have to ask strangers for help… but I lost everything I invested, and as a 15-year-old, I don’t have a way to recover from this on my own.

Any donation, no matter how small, will go toward replacing what was stolen from me and helping me continue working toward my goals. If you can’t donate, please share my story to help protect other people from going through what I did.

I worked so hard for something that was ripped away from me in seconds.

Please help me recover what I spent years earning.

Thank you for reading and supporting me.

— Mason & Ryan