Under Lock and Key Coming Janurary 2012

I can still feel the snap of my arm being jerked outward in my attempt to flee his wrath;

I raised my right arm to shield myself from the blow;

Catching my arm in midair he assured me that everything was ok;

He was not angry;

I came from under a my ball of defense and relaxed my strained muscles only to catch the full blow of his furry;

My head jerked back and hit the stone fireplace;

The shock of the beating numbed the pain;

It wasn't until he said he was sorry that my bones began to ache;

During the hours we had company in my dorm apartment he would make a point to show how obedient I was;

He fed upon his desire to create fear in the hearts of his followers;

He was short in stature but, he was grizzly;

Days drifted into weeks;

He worked the dark streets of Los Angeles;

He smelt of trash, when he returned, still he held a hubris fortitude;

Happy to see that he had retained ownership, of my person and loyalty’s,

He would dare others to look at me;

If he caught site of such betrayal and possible lust after what he proclaimed to own;

He would beat the man senseless then pull a knife to my throat;

The same question was always asked;

“Do you think I should kill him?”

I would suggest that he be exiled from the group, a small act of courage to protect him from this demons wrath;

God knows my time was near;

I too, had plans of making an escape;

He didn't take so kindly of my suggestion;

He figured I was looking to save my undercover lover;

He gave him a small window to either jump from or be thrown out of;

He jumped;

The second floor was high enough to break a few bones if willfully fleeting,

However to be thrown could end a life intentionally;

To jump was best;

Unfortunately, my hour of terror had just begun;

He continued his speech to his fellow constituents that cringed with fear but dare not shut their eyes to visual presentations;

As their eyes watered afraid to blink the tears threatened to cause attention to possible weakness;

He trailed the knife from under my eye down the outline of my face;

The men took the chance to wipe their mugs and adjust their game countenance;

I was stiff as a board and late answering his repeated question. "Are you afraid of me?"

No,

The answer he so loved to hear;

If I were scared I wouldn't give him the satisfaction in knowing;

I fought back tears as he forced the point of the knife into my cheek;

"Good!" He teased;

Flashing his silver pointed medal around;

“Because to kill you would then be justified”;

He grinned, as he leaned in to kiss my trembling lips;

I never understood how killing someone would unless in self-defense; be justified

My plan;

However, I believe that his meaning to justification was in reference to his conscience;

I questioned the existence of good beneath his rotting skin;

I cringed at the thought of unveiling the maggots penetrating his heart;

My eyes lowered and shifted view to his followers;

I begged for their mercy;

I winked at those that had fallen for my sly temptress seduction;

For the life of me I couldn't understand why none of them had taken the opportunity to win back their freedom;

I’d given plenty of time and opportunity;

Motive floated in the air like a cloud of smoke from an uncontained fire;

Desire caused sweat to bead upon their brows and wet their palms.

“Cowards I screamed,” from my delirious mind;

My arms and legs were kicking and flinging as hard and fast as they could in my mind;

I burned them with my stares;

Some looked away;

Others dare not show signs of emotion or disagreement to his performance,

For fear they too would be asked to leave;

Departure without being formally excused as a group could be fatal;

If I had the chance I pull the gun from hips of one of these sensitive assholes and kill him myself;

Mere boys claiming to be men holstering guns;

They are afraid to use,

But jump up and down in an attempt to prove themselves to another man;

A man with who is just as afraid as they are;

Under his wrath,

The lot of us;

Under lock and key…

©2011 Author Aija M . Butler

Under Lock and Key

Lovejoy's Word's on Parenting Jr. Is hitting again...Can someone get him Please? Stop LJ... Stop...

Lj is a feisty one. He enjoys ruff housing with his fellow brethren. Sadly, other children that cross his path become intimidated Little Jeffrey’s advances.

                Lj, is an active sport, highly intelligent, and enjoys mimicking words and actions. He is a very impressionable 23 month old boy. He is a risk taker. He is excited about his new found ability to jump, run, and swing on dangerously loose items without fear. Little Jeffrey Jr. takes pride in launching large, sharp, and heavy objects at persons both young and old. His two favorite words are NO and MINE.

                As we speak young Jeffrey Jr. has taken an interest in my journal entry and smeared Oreo cookie cream all over my gel pen words, while Baby Jordan contributes a bit of drool.

                Active as can be their brains are growing at an enormous rate and it is very important to embrace their interests and creativity; positive or negative. We must turn the negative into the positive.

                Although young Jeffrey’s hitting becomes a bit of a task, there is a very important lesson to be learned. Parents should cease from saying the word, “Stop,” Stop hitting, stop running, stop this or that. Hitting at this stage is his form of playful activity. Young Lj is simply expressing his sense of sociability. He needs to be taught how to play well with others, share, and communicate.

                Also Parents keep in mind the act of hitting is learned. If you hit them, they will hit others. Encouraging healthy, playful activity with others is highly recommended.