"You missed your prayers. Aaron."

The voice was low and commanding, each word punctuated with firmness that left no room for argument. There was no warmth, only a coldness that seemed to cut through the air, like the sharp snap of a whip. It was the kind of voice that made the room feel smaller, as if the walls were closing in, and the poor boy couldn't escape its weight. His name was spoken with a heavy emphasis, the sound lingering in the silence, a reminder of his failure. It wasn’t a question, but an accusation, one that left no space for excuses. It felt like the ground had shifted beneath him.

Young Aaron shrank into himself, his small body trembling as he stared down at his impending fate. He quickly dropped his gaze, watching his feet tap nervously against the floor, the sound an almost inaudible rhythm of fear.

"I-I overslept. I’m sorry," he stammered, his voice shaky and soft, a stark contrast to the cold, commanding tone that had just scolded him. He hugged his arms around himself, seeking comfort in his own fragile embrace, but he knew it would do little to shield him from what was to come.

"That is not an excuse," the voice thundered once more firmly. The sound of footsteps approached, each step deliberate and heavy, echoing in the stillness.

Aaron’s eyes flickered up to the polished shoes that now stood in front of him, their presence towering over him like an immovable wall. His heart pounded, each second bringing him closer to his punishment, and his chest tightened with the fear that had already begun to consume him.

"Arms open. Now, child," the voice demanded, colder than ever. Hands gripped Aaron’s chin, forcing him to look up, his eyes filling with tears. "Don’t make me tell you twice."

With a soft whine barely escaping his lips, Aaron quickly spread his arms wide, his body shaking uncontrollably. He watched as his chin is released and watched as they tightened their grip on the metal ruler they held. The sight of it made him flinch, knowing all too well the pain it could bring. Aaron's breath hitched as his eyes remained to the ruler, the cold metal gleaming ominously in the harsh light. It was a tool of discipline, one he knew well. His heart raced in his chest, each beat thudding in his ears like a drum of impending doom. The warmth of his own trembling hands felt foreign to him now, as though they didn’t belong to his body.

The voice came again, its tone unwavering, filled with authority that pierced him like a blade. "You know what happens when you fail to do what you’re told, don't you?" The words were not a question, but a statement of fact, the weight of them sinking into him.

Aaron nodded quickly, his face flushed with the mixture of shame and fear. His small body, fragile and quivering, was ready to endure whatever came next. Even if it meant he had to take himself mentally somewhere else. He tried to brace himself, but there was no escaping what awaited him.

The ruler moved slowly through the air, its harsh click against the wooden surface echoing like the ticking of a clock counting down to something inevitable. "Stay still," the voice commanded again, softer now, but still stern, like the calm before a storm.

His stomach twisted into knots. "Please..." he whispered, but the plea was lost in the heavy silence between them.

The ruler hovered just inches from his skin, its shadow looming like a dark cloud. Aaron held his breath, bracing for the inevitable strike, his body shivered with fear. Every muscle screamed for release, but he dared not move. His eyes were squeezed shut, tears slipping down his cheeks as the seconds stretched on, each one a painful eternity.

Then, without warning, the ruler came down with a sharp crack, the sound reverberating through the room and ringing in Aaron’s ears. His body jerked from the impact, the sting on his wrist igniting a flash of pain that shot through him like fire. He bit his lip to stifle a cry, but it was no use. A soft whimper escaped him, the sound betraying his desperation.

The voice remained steady, unaffected by the boy's suffering. "You will remember this, Aaron. Disobedience has consequences." The ruler struck again, and again, each blow landing with the same relentless precision, each one carving deeper into the young boy’s spirit than the last.

Aaron’s limbs shook uncontrollably, his heart pounding in his chest like it might burst. The tears flowed freely now, but they did little to ease the ache that had settled in his chest. It wasn’t just the pain of the ruler, it was the weight of the disappointment that hung in the air, suffocating him.

Aaron eventually felt like he was watching another boy getting his punishment. His tears falling but no longer carried the whimper that followed.

"Enough," the voice finally commanded, and the blows stopped.

Aaron remained frozen, his body a trembling mess, unsure if the punishment had ended or if there would be more.

"Get going," the voice ordered, colder now, devoid of any trace of empathy. "Your prayers won’t make themselves."

Slowly, Aaron came back to reality, the ache in his arms sharp and present, but the fear, the fear was worse. As he stood there, trembling, he realized that the punishment wasn’t just about the ruler or the pain, it was about the fear that would stay with him, long after the marks had faded.