Helplessness and Confusion
Charlotte left the church feeling sad but with a glimmer of hope. She had prayed tearfully, begging the Lord to bless her with a child. She and her husband, Oliver, had been married for over a decade, yet she had never conceived. Desperate, she began attending church regularly, pleading for a miracle. Ten years of marriage, and not a single pregnancy.
She had wept countless tears, visited countless doctors, only to hear the same reply:
“You’re both healthysometimes it just takes time. Be patient.”
“But how much longer, Oliver?” she would ask, staring at him helplessly. “A family isnt complete without a child.”
Oliver was just as heartbroken. He longed for an heir, especially since his business was thriving. They lived comfortably, wanting for nothingexcept a child.
“Charlie, maybe we should consider adoption,” he suggested one evening.
“No, Ollie,” she whispered. “I want to carry our own child. The doctors say theres nothing wrong with me…”
Then, as if heaven had finally listened, Charlotte became pregnant. The joy was immeasurable. Though the pregnancy was difficult, she endured every ache for the sake of her precious baby.
Theodore was born frail and prone to illness, but his parents doted on him, shielding him from every danger. They kept him away from playgrounds, fearing infections, and spoiled him with the finest thingsa tablet at four, an expensive phone by primary school. Whatever he wanted, he received.
But as Theodore grew, so did his temper.
Oliver was always at work, while Charlotte stayed home, catering to their sons every whim. If she dared cook something different from his demands, hed scowl.
“What is this rubbish? I said I wanted tomato soup, not this!” Hed dump a full saltshaker into the bowl, demanding his favourite meal.
At thirteen, Theodore became impossible. Charlotte tried talking to Oliver, but he dismissed it.
“Charlie, hes just a teenager. Hell grow out of it.”
One evening, Oliver came home with a gift. “Son, I got you the new phone.”
A minute later, Theodore stormed out of his room, furious. “This isnt the one I wanted! Only losers use this model. Do you want me to be a laughingstock?” He hurled it across the room and slammed the door.
His parents exchanged bewildered glances.
“I told you,” Charlotte murmured. Oliver had no reply.
The same happened with clothes and shoesthey no longer bought anything without his approval, or hed throw a tantrum. Then, the school called.
Charlotte knew it wasnt for praise.
“Good afternoon, Mrs. Hartley,” the teacher began. “We need to discuss Theodores behaviour. He insults staff, disrupts lessons, and when reprimanded, he smirks and threatens to report us for violating his rights. He also loans his phone to classmatesthen demands payment. And he forces others to do his homework.”
Charlottes face burned with shame.
“Please, Mrs. Hartley, you must intervene.”
She apologised and promised to act. Walking home, she fought the urge to slap her son.
*Where did I go wrong?* she wondered. *We adore him. How could love and care breed such cruelty?*
Next door, the Wilsons had four well-mannered children who even helped Charlotte carry groceries. She once asked their mother, Elizabeth, her secret.
“Its simple, really,” Elizabeth said. “My husband grew up in a big familyhe always says more children mean more harmony. They look out for each other.”
Charlotte envied her.
That afternoon, Theodore barged in, flung his bag and trainers across the hall, and snapped, “I told you to keep my door shut! Stay out!”
Charlotte stayed silent, exhausted.
Later, she found him in his room, deliberately slicing his expensive leather jacket with scissors. He smirked.
“Like it? Since you love running to school, buy me a new oneand make it pricier. Or Ill do it again.”
Charlotte lost control. She slapped him.
Theodore staggered, clutching his cheekthen grabbed his phone.
“Police? My mother just hit me. Yes, my *real* mother. Come now.”
The officer, accustomed to neglectful parents, was baffled. “A misunderstanding, surely?”
“No,” Theodore spat. “I want her charged.”
The officer hesitated, then sighed. “I think you two should talk this out.”
“Take him,” Charlotte said wearily. “Maybe this will change something.”
Days later, social services arrived. After hearing Theodores demands to punish his mother, they nodded.
“Pack your things, Theodore. Youre coming with us.”
“Where?”
“A temporary care home. If youre being mistreated, we must act.”
Stunned, he left.
Later, he called, whining, “Mum, Dad, get me out! The foods awful, they took my things!”
“We cant,” Charlotte said flatly. “Our rights are restricted for two weeks.”
She and Oliver hoped the harsh environment would teach him humility.
When Oliver finally visited, he barely recognised his sonquiet, polite, remorseful.
“Dad are you taking me home for good?”
“Do you want to stay?”
“No.”
Back home, Theodore whispered, “Im sorry. I was awful. I provoked you both.”
Charlotte smiled. “Dinners ready, love.”
