Walking down a desolate highway can mean many things. It can mean you’re homeless, upset and causing a scene, or someone brutally uprooted your life and left you to die. The story of poor Madeline is a tale not for the weak of heart or squeamish. Some things in her life were happy, other make your heart twist. Either way, Madeline was a sweet girl. No one deserves what happened to her.
“Madeline Sandra Grayson, you get back here right now! I swear, if you don’t start listening to me I will personally see to it you never see the light of day again! Listen to me when I’m talking to you,” Madeline Grayson’s father yelled. This same conversation, or screaming match, happens every day. Tonight Madeline had had enough! She was packing her few, most cherished items in a small duffle bag.
“And just wear do you think you’re going,” he asked. She didn’t know, but she sure wasn’t going to tell him that, so she came up with a quick lie.
“A friend’s house! If you come looking for me I’ll call the cops and anyone else who’ll listen,” she wouldn’t really call the cops. He didn’t know that though. He stopped yelling and stormed out of her room. She finished packing what she was taking. It really wasn’t much. Just some clothes, two books, some womanly necessities, and the stuffed bunny and bracelet her mother gave her all those years ago.
Madeline’s mother died when she was eight years old. Almost ten years later and her dad still blamed her for it. Slowly he drank his way to a failing liver and alcoholism. Then, he began yelling at her. It was only once in a while, but then it got to the point where it was every night.
Finished with her bag, she took one last look around her room. So many happy memories, yet at the same time so many bad ones. Madeline picked up her bag and went for the door.
“You’re really leaving aren’t you,” her father asked. He was sitting in his chair near the door, beer in hand.
“Yes, and there’s nothing you can do to stop me,” she said matter of factly. She reached for the door knob, but was stopped by her father’s rough hand on hers.
“Don’t go. I’ve already lost your mother I can’t lose you to,” he said. Madeline knew he was lying. That’s why she tore her hand from his grip and flung the door open. As she walked of in the knight, she could hear her father yelling at her. Why couldn’t we live closer to people. This way someone could hear the way he talks to me and maybe even help. She thought. None the less she started her trek into town.
“Get off of me,” she said writhing out of her father’s grasp,” I’m tired of the way you treat me and blame me for mom’s death. I can’t help that the cancer got to her before we did. Good bye,” Madeline quickly ran out the door. She could hear her father shouting obscenities from where she stood. She kept going though. No matter how much her heart wanted her to stop and just break down, her mind and pride wouldn’t let her.