Hit me one more time and you’re a dead man. I mean it, Al. I will take this stick and I will bash your brains in. I’ve had it. I cannot take one more minute. Oh, you stand there all high and mighty like you’re someone, but we both know you’re a poor excuse for a human being. What kind of sick bastard have you become? Does it make you feel powerful to swat me so hard I go flying across the room? I’ve had a bruised kidney, broken ribs, countless concussions. Remember the last time? You knocked me into the dresser and a picture frame shattered in my eye. My eye! My goddamned eye! I almost lost my sight. The doctor told me if it got infected to run to emergency. He couldn’t get all the glass shards out and I still have one floating in there somewhere. What if it goes to my heart? Ever think of that? Who’s gonna be your punching bag…..
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- Written by: Joyce Storey