Narrator This was an obvious attempt to try to scare me. He didn’t have to say that because I was already scared! To further put fear in me he placed me in cuffs and put me in the squad car! He asked me where I lived, which was around the corner, and drove me to my house. That ride seemed like it took forever! I knew this beating going to be the ‘Godfather of all beatings!’ Officer “Are your parents home (he asked)?” Me “Yes.” The officer took the cuffs off and escorted me to the door. My Mother answered… Diann “Officer (she said extremely frightened)?” Police “Ma’am, is he your son?” Diann “Yes, he is. What did he do (she asked nervously)?” By this time my Father came to the door… Officer “He was caught stealing from Sunnydale’s and he also had weapons on him.” He showed them the nunchukas and knife… John/Diann “What?!” Officer “Since you live around the corner and he’s a minor I just brought him over to you, but these are serious actions. You might wanna take care of this now before he does worse things than stealing juices. Next time he might use those weapons he’s carrying around.” Diann “Thank you, officer. I’ll deal with the situation right now!” I knew exactly what that meant. The officer left and my Mother closed the door. My Father was leaving out to go to work but before he left he said to me… John “You know what to do, boy, go in the room and take off your clothes (he said calmly). I’ll see you baby (he said to my Mother as he kissed her and left for work).” Diann “Bye, John. I can’t believe this shit!” John “Well, you know what to do. See ya, baby!” My Mother slammed the door and locked it. I went to my bedroom and stripped to my underwear. I didn’t get regular beatings with a belt. My parents used whatever was available! My Mother beat me with a blackjack once because she said that it leaves bruises on the inside of the skin so no one can see them. I was really nervous this time. I had never stolen anything in my life before so I knew this was going to be bad beating. Now I’m not saying that I didn’t deserve to get beat, in fact I deserved to get my ass whooped! When Malcolm and Horace got busted I should have looked at that as a sign, but I let wanting to cool influence my actions and I needed to take responsibility. But, the punishment should fit the crime! My Mother and Father always crossed the line between discipline and abuse. To them there was no difference! A little smack across the lips because a child said something disrespectful is discipline, breaking that child’s jaw IS ABUSE! This time I was about to get my jaw broke and I didn’t deserve that at all! I laid on the bed and braced for what was about to happen. While I was waiting I heard my Mother fussing and moving things around like she’s looking frantically for something! When she finally came to my room and she turned out the lights. This, of course, frightened me even more because I didn’t know what she was going to beat me with and I couldn’t see the blows coming! All I seen was her figure in the dark raise up a long thin object! With the first hit I quickly realized it was a pipe! She was beating me with a METAL PIPE! She struck me over and over with that pipe! All over my body! I curled up like a baby and protected my head! I jumped back and tried to hide under the covers, but she pulled the covers off of me and beat me even harder, taunting me as she struck me! I felt my body getting cold and numb! I yelled at the top of my lungs for her to stop! I pleaded and pleaded and apologized