For every little things I did wrong, I'm talking about a growing kid, not knowing any better, kind of mistakes, I was slapped in the face as hard as an adult man could deliver. I haven't even reached 10.
For every minute of coming home late, my body will be decorated with lashes from canes and belts. I haven't even finished primary.
I watched in horror, as my brothers also felt his wrath. I get really terrified whenever I think I did anything wrong. That was how it is, growing up with fear.
But it's okay, I turned to my friends when I need to escape home.
Oh wait, I was betrayed by a whole group because of a really silly, jealous situation. I was 15.
Your parents might be divorced but I bet they actually act like parents to you. My parents are still together, but it was like only having a mother anyway.
As I grew older, so did he. As I got physically stronger, he got weaker. So the beating became less. Oh wait, it was just me getting used to it.
Sometimes I punch myself in the mouth to spit out blood. He stops when he sees blood.
All 4 of my elder brothers were driven out of home. So did I, but I was the only one not strong enough to hold it together, and I finally snapped before leaving.
There was this once, I sent a text for father's day, thanking him and telling him I love him, despite everything. I got no reply.
My father has never told me he loves me. Not even indirectly. But whatever.
My brother told me, exactly 2 days after I was born, my father went away for quite a long while, for religious bullshit. Obviously I don't remember anything but apparently, it affected our relationship.
I wasn't blessed with good looks. I faked confidence since forever that I now actually believe my own lie. It's called being delusional.
My first taste of actual happiness came to a devastating and abrupt halt which absolutely destroyed any belief I had towards life. It took me a whole year to recover.
Only to get a shot at another and again suddenly ended. But I won't bring her into this, she's mentally scarred too, caused by a different situation.
Last night I had a thought: I am actually going to die alone. The very next thing that came up was, don't we all? Cause I've never heard any planned death between friends or lovers.
So trust me when I say I really don't care. Family, friends, love. I'll pass.
I've given up on life, but I'm still living so I'll make the most out of it with the things I enjoy. Cause I can still think of millions out there that got it worse.
The point here is, it doesn't matter how big the scar is, it's the fact I have one.
"This still doesn't give you the right to be an asshole." Yeah, I just turned into one overnight because I felt like it. *rolls eyes*
I'm done.
Afan.
