What a Pain in the Glass

I really don't do tongue in cheek,
expressions that closely resemble swearing.
I just don't.
But this one just fit too perfectly.
And quite frankly,
I'm in a bit of a mood right now.

I can't believe I didn't take a picture of it, either.
Maybe, it was just too painful of a reminder
to take a picture.
But the story is . . .
James got mad. 
James was scared inside. 
James felt frustrated.
And when he finally retreated outside,
I locked the door,
so that I could take care of Jalen Andrew's needs,
which would then give me time and space
to take care of James'.
On a conscious level,
he would have known that he wasn't locked out -
that all he had to do was knock,
when he felt calm again -
that I was right there in the kitchen
watching him and keeping him safe,
but he wasn't functioning from a conscious level
right then.
He was stuck deep in a primal area
of his brain
that told him to freeze, fight or take flight.
He chose to fight,
so he picked up a badminton racket,
and began hitting the windows.
I think that the intensity that he exerted,
even suprised himself,
especially when the window broke,
and the sound of tinkling glass graced the moment.
The bright side?
It was a double pained window,
and he only broke through the first pain.
The other side of it?
The pain he feels inside is still there;
it is real, and it hurts, and
he hasn't been able to break through that yet.
Yet is the key word,
for he will break through,
and I'll be there to pick up the pieces.