Explosion of Catastrophe
By: Beccatdemon13
©2008
Disclaimer: I don't own anyone except for Margaret Ryan Dolan, as well as anyone you don't immediately recognize. Please don't sue. You'd only be getting about seven weeks of minimum wage. What? Don't look at me like that High School ain't a paying gig you know. But god I wished it was. Beccatdemon13 now will go off to fantasize about being paid to go to school. Oh, right, the story! On we go…
Synopsis: The common cliché goes: Keep your friends close and your enemies even closer. But what if you can't tell the difference?
Author's Note: Inspiration can be such a bitch sometimes. One day I feel like I can't write at all and sometimes the ideas can't stop coming. Maybe it's because of that extra expresso shot in my coffee a couple of hours ago or maybe it was just a random fluke but I hope it's good. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this story. Also please know that this story will have heavy cursing, drug use, underage drinking, self-mutilation, and there may be sex, who knows? Just keep these warning in mind. Thank you.
Chapter One: Maggie Dolan: A Short History
"There is no despair so absolute as that which comes with the first moments of our first great sorrow, when we have not yet known what it is to have suffered and be healed, to have despaired and have recovered hope." -George Eliot
The concept of nature vs. nurture is one that has been waging on for the better part of a century. The idea that your characteristics versus personal experiences will cause physical differences in both physical and behavioral traits.
Using nature vs. nurture brings about the case of Margaret Dolan about with frightening clarity. Margaret otherwise known as Maggie, most likely would've turned into a decent person and a good kid. It was too bad that life dealt her a crappy hand of cards. Maggie was just like any six-year-old living in Detroit, Michigan. She thought her life was normal and she would play with the other children on her block. But unlike the other children Maggie was already hiding a terrible secret. Her parents were addicted drugs and alcohol, which would change Maggie's normally sweet and caring parents into absolute monsters abusing her until she learned the signs of when it was or wasn't safe.
Maggie didn't realize that at six years old that her parents were addicts and the worst kind of addict too. When they were under the influence they were abusive and neglectful constantly leaving Maggie to scavenge for food. By six years old Maggie was living a double life: normal child by day and a victim by night.
Maggie would later refer to the stage between her six and fourteenth years as her being in survival mode. She wasn't optimistic, she didn't look toward the future she just focused on staying alive because for her tomorrow was never a certainty. As luck would have it on one of the days she was scavenging for food a social worker happened to be in the store she was trying to rip off. The social worker could run a lot faster than Maggie gave her credit for and she was apprehended and thrown into foster care while the social worker tried to locate the next of kin.
The home Maggie landed in was one of the better ones in Detroit. The Mercer home was a notorious house for wayward boys but she was one of the exceptions. When they tried to put her into a home she threw a fit and not just a normal six-year-old temper tantrum either. Maggie went after anyone around her: hurting herself as well as anyone else unfortunate to get into her line of fire. She was angry about getting taking away from the only home she knew. Despite her parents abuse she actually felt as though they cared. Evelyn Mercer was the social worker that found her and was the one who suggested that she stay with her. When Maggie entered the Mercer home she was immediately on guard. For the longest time Maggie didn't trust Evelyn's eldest three boys: Bobby, Jerry, and Angel. But the newest and youngest boy was a whole other story. Jack had only been there a year and their backgrounds were rather similar despite him being at least four years older then her.
Maggie was with the Mercers for six months before she had to move on. Distant relatives had come forward and offered her a home. Sadly they were no better than her actual parents. They were even more abusive then anyone would ever thought. To this day Maggie's right wrist was still crooked from having being broken and not fixed properly. Going from a very good foster home to her relatives home damaged Maggie beyond repair. She retreated into herself barely talking and was very quick to get defensive. From her relatives house she was quickly bounced around from place to place before she was kicked out of Detroit entirely.
When Maggie landed in Chicago she was a lot more abrasive then she had been before. Gone was the sweet little girl who despite anything would smile even if the smile didn't quite reach her eyes. In that little girl's place was this sullen and angry adolescent who would fight and run away whenever a home didn't feel right to her. In the little girl's place was a sad shell of a girl who just didn't understand why her life was so hard. Why no one seemed to want her. Chicago was the hardest time for young Maggie. It was in Chicago where she had started getting a record. Chicago was where one of her foster brothers had attempted to sexually assault him. The then eleven-year-old Maggie left him in a coma for three weeks. After that things seemed to go down hill her record would soon have everything under the sun: breaking and entering, aggravated assault, and shoplifting. You name it; it was there in some form or another.
From Chicago she landed in New York City where the foster care system was ten times harsher. She was still moving from place to place learning to never unpack. Maggie couldn't run away and that was a fact she learned to hate. In New York Maggie was actually sent to Juvie. She was deemed a danger to society at fourteen years old. Her stint in Juvie wasn't long as the charge against her was merely coincidental, having no evidence to actually pin the crime fully on her. She had been caught in a stolen car and was sentenced to three months. When Maggie was released she was given a choice between staying in New York City and moving on. She quickly chose a group home in Boston.
The group home was more of Maggie's style. There was no one who legitimately gave a crap about any of the kids that were there. The husband of the person who ran the home was a drunk and could get rather abusive. By then Maggie was already use to the random blows and quickly became Mr. Cabot's favorite punching bag but only when he was drunk. When Mr. Cabot was sober he was as sweet as could be. Like many other adults Maggie was exposed too. Maggie still stayed in touch with the Mercer family, as they were one of the only fourteen other foster homes she stayed in where the people actually cared about. It was in the Mercer home where her walls weren't quite as high, where her persona wasn't quite as cold.
It was in Boston that Maggie's life would change forever. Some would say for the worst, others would say for the better. Because it was in Boston where Maggie finally found her family. It was in Boston where Maggie would find her soul mate…
