"The Servant" - Mach II

George and Henry have known each other since nursery-school days. Always together, always the best of friends, - or so it had appeared. From those first early days, however, George has had but one obsession, - his total domination of Henry. To the onlooker it had seemed harmless enough, arm around his friend's shoulders George would explain his plans and how Henry should carry-out his part in their ventures.

Henry was perfectly happy to go along with everything, - the arm around his shoulder made him feel wanted and protected rather than the used that he most certainly was. So it was inevitable that, in time, Henry became dependant upon George's continual instructions but not nearly as dependant as George became upon him; contantly bending another human being to your will can give one a sense of power and superiority over such submissiveness.

Then came the day when someone else asked Henry to undertake a task, George immediately 'snapped' (how dare anyone else give orders to Henry, - that was what he did!) "No, no, I'll do it" George asserted, this option being preferable to him than anybody encroaching on his territory, threatening his 'grip'. "No, I'm asking Henry to do it" persisted the intruder and when Henry boldly attempted to respond he was prevented by his panic-stricken friend who repeatedly lashed-out at him until restrained and dragged away, arms still flailing as he shouted-out his objections.

Fifteen minutes later as George continued his barrage whilst apprehended in an adjoinging room, Henry was sitting at a table looking a little lost.
"What are you doing Henry?"
"I'm going to make a birthday card" and he glanced at the paper in front of him.
"What are you waiting for, Henry?"
"I'm waiting for George to come and tell me which colour to use".
"But you can choose the colour yourself".
Henry's 'lost' expression turned to one of total bewilderment.
"Henry, - you can choose the colour yourself, you don't need George to tell you which colour to use".
Another pause until, hesitantly, Henry reached-out and picked up a red crayon.

The chilling fact of this true story is that George and Henry are both only 4 years old. How could one small child become almost unable to function when released from the manipulation of another of equally tender years?

In the innocent surroundings of a pre-school, I felt that I had been witness to something bordering on the sinister.