Good Parenting 101

 At first I used to scream a lot
Floods of tears and cries of fear
I used to panic, fret and tremble
Lost bladder control wetting myself
Whimpering was followed by sobbing
Quickened pulse and breathing
Then an enforced acceptance
Almost creating a form of calmness
Groping about in the pitch black
Darkness akin to blindness
A smell of coal dust and urine
At least the shouting had stopped
For now;
Empty coal sacks in a pile
Almost comfy to slouch on
Cellar too small for lying down
Then the door opens violently
The light floods in, my eyes hurt
A grabbing handful of my hair
Drags me out of the darkness
Thrown into a cold water bath
Thrown a brown bar of soap
Washing away the coal dust
Scrubbing away my sinful ways
All clean, ready for the next time

A coal cellar is not the place
To lock up a nine year old boy
It is not a valid punishment
It serves no god purpose
Other than to instil terror
Surely this should be obvious
For some, apparently not.