The Catcher in the Rye Epilogue

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Epilogue The crack was straight through the centre of the predominately frozen pond. There were always little patches of water in the pond that hadn’t frozen over. Spring was around the corner as winter was nearly at an end, and god, it had been one ‘helluva’ winter too. I walked over to the pond & knelt down to check out the crack. By all means it was a deep crack, immediately making me think it was naturally caused by the heat from the occasional days of premature spring weather. The strain of kneeling was getting too much for my god damn knee so I walked over to the little park bench facing the bridge on the right side of the pond. It was a phoney thing to say I walked; the truth is every person who has reasonable vision would describe it as a droopy limp. My hands felt the icy sting of the metal on the bench that had fallen victim to winters bitter-artic temperatures. It was a moronic thing to not wear gloves out in this weather, especially this time of night. I suppose you’re wondering how my life turned out. Well to tell you the truth; it wasn’t all that bad after my mad days. My kid sister Phoebe told me I should tell my parents about my problems, god bless her. I knew that if they found out they would send me to one of those mental hospitals where they treat everyone like a madman. Everything escalated in my mind, creating situations I wasn’t in. I didn’t want to go, I thought the world was against me and the hospital would just be another bunch of phoneys trying to help freaks with phoney problems like me. I remember, trying to end it all there and then, I was depressed and lost. If Phoebe hadn’t taken it upon herself, to tell Mum and Dad, it could’ve been a lot worse, a whole lot worse. Luckily all the injuries I brought upon myself weren’t severe and never took long to recover from, apart from my leg. It has never been the same since. Turns out Mum
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