What I see.
—An angry boy.
What I feel.
—Frustration.
Jack was one of these naughty boys, spoiled by dad and reprimanded by mom. At nine years old, he would do almost anything he wanted, from not eating his vegetables to teasing his older sister Eva. The young girl was clearly tired of her brother always getting his way, for every time her mother scolded him, her father showered him with affection.
It wasn't until Jack, one ordinary day, came up with the idea of playing with a new drone, one that his dad had given him for his birthday. The boy was completely fascinated by the device, but he was not yet proficient in its handling, so without being able to avoid it, he crashed it against the window of his sister's room.
Eva's fright was so great that she gave a shuddering scream, causing her mother to go immediately to see what was going on. Jack, his little heart beating like a hummingbird's, ran to his room to hide. He knew he was in for a big one, and this time dad wasn't going to help him.
The mother, knowing who was responsible for such mischief, went straight to the room where he was hiding under the sheets.
“You are punished!” His mother exclaimed, without even mediating words with the little boy.
“But it wasn't my fault!” Jack slid the covers off his face.
“I told you many times to be careful with that device. That you could use it only if your dad supervised you, but you never listen.” The mother with her hands on her hips looked furious. “From now on you are forbidden to use electronic devices, no more tablet, no more drone, and no more going outside. Right now, I want you to get out of the covers and lock yourself in the study to read.” The boy was about to contradict his mother, but she cut him off. “I don't care if you get bored, you don't go outside unless it's to eat and go to the bathroom.”
“It's not fair.”
“Let's go!” His mother spat, opening the door for him.
Jack reluctantly left the room, and went with his mother to his father's study, which had huge bookshelves full of books. Jack was bored with reading, and his mother had knowledge of that, which made the punishment all the more apt.
Grumbling, and full of frustration, Jack took a seat in one of the chairs in front of the huge desk and frowned. His contracted face reflected that he was having a hard time, but his mother didn't care.
Jack let out a long sigh as his mother left the study, then fiddled with the books on the desk. Some had leather covers, some were still packed, and others looked like huge blocks of concrete.
The truth was that he had never spent so much time in that place, and he was intimidated by the number of books his father read. When had he acquired so many? He wondered, knowing he would have no answer.
For Jack this was the worst punishment of his life, he felt indifference for those tomes, and just sat and stared at the ceiling completely bored until he fell asleep.
