Jimmy heard the footsteps. The dreaded footsteps. They came ever closer to his door. He wanted to run, but knew he couldn’t. He was a prisoner here.
He had hidden the sheets from last night behind the dresser, but he knew she would find them, and once again, he would feel her wrath. He couldn’t help it that he wet the bed again. The nightmares were back, and they caused him to do it. And he sure wasn’t going to wear those old diapers. He was too old for those.
Jimmy’s door swung open, and there she stood, hands on hips, lips pursed, and eyes blazing with fire. He knew he was in trouble. She strode across the floor, and with one swipe of her hand, Jimmy’s face was ablaze with heat and pain. To insure he got her point, she did it again, to the other side of Jimmy’s face. He knew he was powerless to do anything to stop her. So he continued to allow it to happen.
Then, like she had some sort of psychic power, she went to the dresser and reached behind it, pulling out the wet, urine stained sheets. A cry uttered from her throat like that of a banshee. Jimmy wished he could just become invisible, and she couldn’t hurt him anymore. She took the sheets, opened them to the wettest portion, and then rubbed them in Jimmy’s face. Jimmy tried hard not to cry out, but he couldn’t breathe. He put his hands up to his face, and tried to push the sheets away. She was too strong, and he was just so weak. Finally the sheets fell to the floor, and he gasped for air. Then the real beating began.
She kept a baseball bat in the corner of the hall closet. Jimmy hadn’t seen it in her hand as she originally entered the doorway. But he sure felt it now. First upon his left shoulder. Then across his right arm. He couldn’t run from her, so he pulled himself up into a ball, and tried to send his mind to somewhere nice, away from all this torture. It wasn’t working. The blows were harder, the pain worse. He knew he had to protect his head, but one of the blows managed to catch the left side of his head, and his ear started ringing. That very bat was his, that he used when he would play ball with the neighborhood kids. Now it held no good memories.
Finally the blows ceased. Jimmy felt so much pain, it was like he WAS pain. He tried to tell her he was so sorry for wetting the bed, and he would try even harder never to let it happen again. She left the room. Jimmy cowered in the corner, waiting to see if she was done. She remained gone for about an hour. Then she brought Jimmy a hot bowl of soup with a toasted cheese sandwich. Jimmy took the food and sat it on his lap. He took a bite of the sandwich, and it burned the roof of his mouth. He jumped, and the soup bowl tilted. In his haste to right the bowl, he knocked it over spilling some of the soup. He knew what was next. She grabbed the bowl and threw the remainder of the very hot soup on Jimmy’s face. He felt his right eye burning with severe pain. He tried to wipe off the soup and as he did so, skin came with it. He could not see out of his right eye, and his face hurt so badly, he passed out.
Saturday, November 21, 2008
Today, James Homer Jones of Newtown, was laid to rest. Jimmy, as he was known to all his friends, passed away unexpectedly on Wednesday, November 18, 2008. Jimmy would have turned 79 on December 8, 2008.
Jimmy is survived by a cousin, Julie Tanner, who flew in from Paris to attend the memorial service held at the Sacred Hearts Chapel.
Jimmy was cremated and his ashes were taken by Ms. Tanner back to Paris to be sprinkled from the top of the Eiffel Tower.
January 6, 2009
There has been evidence found of homicide and an arrest made in the case of James Homer Jones, who was found dead in his home, on November 18, 2008. It appears that Mr. Jones’ personal care giver, Ms. Sweety Thompson, had beaten Mr. Jones and burned him with some hot liquid. She then proceeded to beat Mr. Jones with a baseball bat until he was dead. Ms. Thompson then took what belongings she wanted from the house and left.
Police arrested Ms. Thompson after she attended a New Year’s party, and after having consumed too much alcohol, bragged about what she had done to Mr. Jones. She confessed to the abuse, and said she had always disciplined him in that fashion for the 4 years she had taken care of him. She said he had never complained about how she chose to punish him.
This is a fictional write. But it happens all too often around the country, possibly even the world. We need to promote more awareness of Senior Abuse. More laws need to be passed, and then enforced. These people are our fathers, our mothers, aunts, uncles, grandparents, great grandparents, even sisters and brothers. They are the cornerstone of what we have today. So why are they being abused by the thousands, and nothing is being done about it? Hug a senior citizen today, and let them know you love them and care what quality of life they live.
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