A Purpose

Waiting. Pacing. She knew it was going to happen again. Too many times she’d been stood up. She knew she was nothing special but hoped somewhere there was someone like her, who could understand her & love her for who she was. Waiting, for hours & still no word. She snapped. If only she…well…no reason to think about that now. She needed to do something…and she was pissed.  It was late, but grabbing her purse she walked out the door & got into her car. No idea where she was going but that didn’t matter. She just drove…for hours it seemed.   The road wound up the side of the hill…there was a scenic lookout she knew of that was not far.  Pulling onto the shoulder she stopped & tried to breathe, but the tears came.  The anger building up inside as she got out of the car.  Why? she asked herself…why was it so difficult?  She needed a release…walked over to the railing at the edge & looked down at the jagged rocks & water crashing against them.  She knew she couldn’t do it…there was something else in her dying to get out but, she needed a way to let it out.  Slowly she walked the length of the rail when she stopped, paused as she saw something shining at the edge of the grass.  Bending down she pulled up what looked like a machete, not old but recently used…she thought there were stains on it, dark stains but she couldn’t tell as the sunlight was fading.  As she held it she felt something shift inside her, as if holding it gave her a power she had never felt.  She grinned, evilly, thinking of all the men who had wronged her.  She walked back over to the car with a new sense of purpose…as she felt sure she needed to save other women from all those bastards.  Starting the car she drove back to the city…plotting, a plan for the new day already forming in her mind.

Bloody-machete

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