a short story

My youngest son wrote a short story. Or at least, he started a story. One of the staff read what he was writing and took it away from him. It was then sent to his case manager to be placed in his file. My son told me this during his Tuesday phone call. He wasn’t sure why it was taken away,he told me. Something about how he wasn’t allowed to watch violent movies or read violent books. He told me it was a story about an iguana.
Of course we were nervous. Iguana stories are not usually confiscated.
Yesterday was family counseling (always the high point of our week). The usual facilitator was not available, so our son’s individual counselor facilitated. We asked if we could please read the story he had written. After all,staff could have over reacted to a normal boy story. The case manager was called and insisted on delivering the offending literature herself; she needed to talk to us.
While we waited, my husband and myself told (for the hundredth time) the story of our youngest son- and why incentive charts probably would not work.
Enter case manager. First she needed to tell us she found our son watching Band of Brothers with the teens. She pulled him out and made a bit of a stink with the current staff. She also told dear son he should have told staff he wasn’t allowed to view such movies. As expected, said son was very angry. We were told how he stood by the wall muttering how he hated his parents. He scared her. Not for her own saftey. The intensity of his hatred frightened her.
This was the lead up for The Story.
A brief synopsis of this literary work titled “Poison” follows.
Iguanas are never mentioned.
We enter the story with the protagonist killing and eating his prey. He then goes on to say he used to just eat slugs and bugs like others of his kind. He had four siblings taken from him. He still ate slugs and bugs until three years after he was “deported”. He then decided he would become a predator,find others like himself, and hunt and kill all those who had done this to him. He was fairly detailed in his description.
This is obviously autobiographical. He is talking about his birth siblings,and their removal or “deportation” from his birth family. The three year mark from removal was last year-about the time we took placement.
Our son’s case manager said that it would be a while before he would furlough. She also didn’t want me home alone with him without his dad also home. We decided that when and if he had furlough. I would take him to his dad’s store for a meal and perhaps to the park to play. Then I could bring him back to the Academy. Two hours, perhaps.
The therapist thought letting him write was a good idea. After all, we can see what he is thinking. The case manager was adamant that he not be allowed to write this sort of thing unless the therapist was present. She did not want the other boys exposed to this. She did not want him recruiting others. She appealed to my husband and me. We agreed with her assessment. This would not be a good idea. I also asked the therapist to make sure he was not agitated when she sent him back to the others if she did have him write his “stories”. I am nervous he will work himself up and not be able to regulate himself back down.
My son’s case manager has gone from wanting to save him to being afraid of him. He scares her. She saw his eyes when he was angry.
Via a bit of creative writing,my son’s inner thoughts became clear to her.
She saw him unmasked.
It scared her.
He is only twelve.