A peek into my mind

I hate this.  I want number 266190-  to come home.  Here it comes… Here comes the unexplainable pain. I don’t have any words to describe it.  Here goes my mind. My mind.  Racing, screaming inside, thoughts overlapping each other, stuttering, electricity bouncing and ricocheting all over the insides of my body. Shocking my brain cells.  Sweating.  Someone or something on my back, trying to pull me backwards.  Scratching me with long, sharp, nails from the inside, out.   I’m Screaming, crying, begging on my knees, praying, Yelling, I want number 26619 to walk out those gates!  I want to bulldoze through the fences, through the iron gates, through the block cement walls, down the corridor, where my son sits in a tiny cell, and grab him.  Hold him, yell out to all that will listen, this is my son!  I’m taking him home now.  You will no longer call  him a number.  You will no longer treat him worse than chickens that are cooped up small cages. This is my David.  My child.  God’s child.  You will treat him as such.   It’s time for him to come home now.  I’m taking my son home now.  You will stop dehumanizing him.  You will now stop abusing him.  You will now call him by his name. David. He has a name. David.  He is not  # 266190.   My chest is getting tighter, my breathing shallow and faster, here comes the sweat, running down my back and chest. I’m getting angry; my voice is changing, louder mixed in with crying. You will no longer put him in a box for 23 hours a day.  You will stop the insanity now!   You have no idea who my son is. You don’t know my son’s story, you don’t know his family, and loved ones.  Most of ‘you’ holding the keys are the ones that are criminals.  You are the abusers.  You are the ones who should be charged as criminals. You are the most dangerous kind of criminal.  He has a mother, a father, a brother, a sister.  He has a loving  Heavenly Father who knows everything about him.  Back off!  I’m taking my son, David home now.  Back off…….