~1974~
A lady in her mid early thirties walked towards the pot on the stove that boiled hot wax in it. Before she reaches for the spoon, she taps the cigarette in the ashtray, she then proceeds to stir the wax a little before lifting it off the stove carefully an turns it around the kitchen table. She places the pot on top of the holder and once again taps her cigarette before grabbing a ceramic piece which resembles a face. She then holds the piece with one hand, while with the other she grabs some of the liquid wax an pouts it into the mask piece. She carefully begins to move the wax around the ceramic mask.
In front of her is her youngest son sitting in his high chair eating cereal and also with some all around his table holder. The little young boy sets his spoon down
"You are being such a good boy. Would you like some more cereal, sweets? Here you go", she says to him as she puts down the ceramic mask and walks to him. She ranks the cereal box and pours more cereal into his bowl then adds more milk. Just as she finished with the milk, a man carrying a screaming child enters through the kitchen door!
"He's really being a monster today", the man says as he carries the boy over to another high chair that has restraints on it.
"Trudy, goddamnit, hell me!"
Due to the boys rough kicking, the ceramic mask falls down and breaks leaving wax all over the floor. Trudy makes her way over to him," ugh, can't you be more careful", she asks
"I'm doing the best I can. He's out of control", the man, who's her husband replies to her.
"Sit still. Stop it!", Trudy says to her boy who is still squirming and kicking, she then tells her husband," please hold him", together they try to strap him
"Stop kicking", he strap his feet with leather looking restraints and then tapes the leather to the pole
"Why can't you be more like you brother?", Trudy grumbles with the screaming boy.
Her husband hen continues to tie down the body's hands
"Be quiet, shut up", Trudy says with such anger in her voice. Crimson dry blood was mostly visible on the high chair where the restraints remain. Once the straps were secure around the boys wrists, he continued to thrash around which caused the straps to cut into his wrist and draw blood. On the other high chair sat her youngest son finishing his cereal as if nothing is happening around him. As Trudy tried finishing the last of the straps, the boys scratches her on the hand deeply. She retaliates by slapping him so hard in the face!!!
😱😱😱😱
