Free Little Tim, Big Tim by Tim Roy Page A

parents to the realisation that their actions are wrong and that they are accountable. I feel that James’ safety will be assured, and other family members will be saved from the torture and torment. Yes! This is the only solution left. Stick to the normal routine and then soon it will all be over.

CADET OFFICE/CAMP
     
LITTLE BIG TIM
     
    The next day, at the Old Man’s insistence, I join the Army Cadets at school. Last week he had announced,
    ‘On Monday the Cadets are taking names for enlistment, I want you to remain after school and enlist into the Cadets. It will make a man out of you, ’ he laughed his cynical laugh.
    I thought at the time that they would teach me to use a gun and I was well aware of who I wanted to use it on.
    I stick to my plan and wait for the afternoon to arrive. I remain cheerful and co-operative throughout the day. When night arrives, it’ll be my last. ‘ Must post the letter, ’ I remind myself as I move to what is called the Cadet Q store—where all the equipment allocated to the High School Cadet unit is stored. The new recruits are organised into a line and I am placed at the end of it.
    My turn finally arrives to sign my enlistment papers. Everybody has left; it’s just Captain Waters and I. I stand at his desk and he asks me to close the big steel door used to ensure no Army equipment goes missing. I obey his order and, before I turn, I know I’m trapped again. Once again I’ve been set up by the Old Man to please sick men’s desires. The usual transition develops and I am flung into the Dark , defeated again.
    Peter passes me to suffer the most brutal of attacks.
     
PETER
     
    With my back to him, I, as Peter, am grabbed and flung across his desk; he is twice my weight, so this is an easy feat for him. I find myself in a new position over the desk. The buttons of my shirt rip off as the back of my shirt is bunched at the back of my neck, my pants and underpants are unceremoniously pressed down around my ankles. He digs his fingernails into my back and rips my flesh as he pierces my bottom.
    The pain in my bottom is secondary to the damage that is done to my back. His fingernails repeatedly run down my back and my hollers are inaudible to anybody as we are in a steel and concrete room. His last grunt brings an explosion within me. Something has gone off inside me. This explosion has ten times more value than the self-gratifying one he’s now recovering from; Troy has arrived.
    Troy picks up items off his desk and brands him as we have just been branded. His name plaque is the first to make contact; next, the glass pin holder lands fair on his head.
    ‘Stop that you ’ re hurting me, ’ he whines.
    Troy speaks.
    ‘No shit Sherlock, you just hurt me. Now open the door, ’ he orders.
    ‘Don’t tell anyone. No one will believe you, ’ he pleads.
    ‘No shit Sherlock. Open the fucking door, ’ Troy screams.
    Our first swear word to an adult in our entire existence. Another force joins me and we taunt the sick little man, threatening to throw a dummy grenade at his head if he doesn’t obey our command.
    ‘Open the fucking door, ’the new, older and more controlled voice commands.
    The door is now open eighteen inches wide; we make our move, throwing the dummy grenade smack into his forehead. As he falls like a bag of shit away from the entrance, he pulls the steel door open enough for us to escape.
    ‘ Don’t tell anyone, they’ll never believe you, ’ Troy taunts.
    I look back at the crumpled mess Troy has caused and for the first time see my attacker as weak and insignificant. As usual, no one will believe me. Nothing can change the fact that he did attack us, but this time we attacked back! Something changed when the explosion had occurred. That something is the arrival of Mark, who stops the marks being made.
    ‘Where did I come from? Did I come from inside? Where am I? ’ Mark asks.
    As Little Big Tim, I don’t know. I have a voice talking to me; and another