What did I do so wrong?"
"I tried to do what she asked, what they asked, why can't I do what they told me to do."
"I am Bad, I guess I am Just Bad."
The look of anguish was spray painted across my face as I stood in line. Feelings of confusion accompanied the anguish as I surveyed the others in line. Their stares were masked with a paralyzed confusion. 
We did not know what to do. Our gazes were frozen like a herd of deer caught in the headlights of semi-trucks plowing down on them from all directions. So we stood still.
"Oh I can run to my mom," I thought as I slowly and nervously look around to find her in what seemed like a sea of adults watching the show. "Aw there she is," I signed to myself. In my mother's arm, I felt the hope. It begins to rise in my belly, and as it rose hope stopped and it died. I think it lost its footing. My hope was washed away by the whistle and her blank look. The deer was in her eyes. The Son of Fire destroyed the maternal instincts and white washed and suppressed her with a hypnotic notion. She could not sense my fear, confusion, and need for protection. She had been covered with detachment and void of instinct.
"Maybe I can walk over to...” my thoughts were disrupted by the whistling sound. The sound was followed by an eerie squeal of pain. The pain tapped my attention on the back and diverted thoughts of salvation. The thought of pain caressed me and leaned on my shoulder. I swallowed hard to digest the feelings that were just feed to me. As I closed my eyes, I heard the whistle again and this time my body danced to the beat of the whistle. We shared in this torment. Then I heard the transition. It went from a cry to a whimper and from scream to whines. From good to bad. From brat to child. "Now he is a better child," I thought "I guess soon I will be." The line moved forward. The whistles sound again.
The Choir rose and sang praises. I heard them say. I heard someone say, "Spare the rod and spoil the child."
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