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Worthwhile

Worthwhile

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Published by Scott Stackpole

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Published by: Scott Stackpole on Mar 26, 2012
Copyright:Attribution Non-commercial

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05/13/2014

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worthwhile
Mary Catherine came from a small townsomewhere in the midwest.she didn't talk about it much.her father was a mechanic,her mother sold Avon door to door.she had two sisters and a brotherbut she doesn't speak to them anymore.they haven't spoken since that day,the day it all come to a head,the day she went away.you see, she was the oldestand reasonably pretty,she had a nice figure and long red hairthat she constantly twirled around her fingers.her father was a large man, not fat but muscular and strong.he was well regarded by the town folkseven though he drank too much.her mother was demure and quiet,she rarely smiled and when she did,it just didn't fit her.her siblings were too young to noticethat there was anything wrong,but Mary Catherine knew.she couldn't sleep in that house,always on edge, listening for any sound.even the faintest creeking of the floorboardswould send her mind spinning,a deep feeling of dread would overtake her.it wasn't always like this,there was a time, when she was youngthat she slept soundly,but that felt like an eterntiy ago.the midnight visits, the drunken breath,the incredible weight on top her,how she hated it, hated him, hated them all.
 
finally the day came when she could take it no more.she laid down in that bed for the last time,she placed her brother's baseball batnext to the nightstand within easy reach.sometime after 1 AM he came in,staggering drunk,reeking of whiskey and stale beer.she pretended to be asleep, as she always didonly this time she wasn't praying for him to go away,she was waiting, waiting for him to come overas he always did, and stand at the side of her bed,watching her.patience, she told herself, patience....then it came, the sound of his zipper unzippingfollowed by the soft thud of his pants hitting the floor,not this time, she told herself as she reached over and grabbed the bat, jumped up on her knees and swung it with all of her might.she connected, striking him in the shoulder,knocking him off balance as he tripped over his pantsthat still hung around his ankles.she leapt out of bed, all the anger and shame pouring out of heras she continued swinging the bat, hitting him in the headand chest until the floor was red with his blood.she'll never forget the look on his face as he lay theretrying in vain to protect himself from the attack.she kept beating him until he stopped movingthen she picked up the bag she had packed earlier that dayand ran out into the nightnot knowing where she was going,but certain that where ever she ended uphad to be better than here.she didn't make it far.they caught up to her three miles from the border.now her days are spent in concrete and steel.they gave her twenty years to lifebut if you ask her, she'll tell youas bad as prison is, it's still better than where she was.......

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