Daddy was home early again, and by now the beatings had started. Tommy was worried again today because Mommy was Daddy’s true one love and joy. Tommy had seen Mommy in black and blue prior to this evening, but with God as his witness, he wouldn’t see it again today. Tommy had never been violent before with his Daddy, but he no longer wanted to see Mommy played for fool. Battered Wife Syndrome the learned doctors called it, and if Tommy could stop it, well then that’s what he’d do.

Tommy stood behind an open door gripping ahold of a cinder block waiting for his Daddy. When Daddy came into view, he composed himself and prepared to make a strike. Daddy’d been drinking again, and when he staggered past Tommy, thump! He received a concrete, and gigantic surprise! Tommy had whacked his poor Daddy down onto the carpet, with one great big jolt, our little Tommy had got him!

Daddy lay vacant, motionless on the floor, and in death; Tommy knew that he’d did it this time. He’d freed he and Mommy from their state of dread. No longer would Daddy be the violent drunkard in their life, instead he’d be petrified like an anvil, a rock, or cement.