Batters Up I pick up the bat and hit the tree. I feel the power ripple through my arms as I make contact. The bat cracks, The tree moans, My hands blister. I turn the bat and strike again and again. I yell out from the pain in my hand, but I continue. Pieces of metal and tree fly at my face as the bat shatters. The bat is destroyed, My hands are sore, But the tree stands as tall as ever. I collapse to the ground and shake.

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