In that person's mind. What it did, is forgivable.

AS it talks to me about its father waiting to hit him with a baseball bat as he was entering a room. And showing me teary eyes. This was about 17, just before I was about to leave.

I was fucking laughing from within.

All that violence I endured from this fucker since the age of 3.

That is what it tells me.

 

And that it hit me throughout because it must instill fear into the cub, while it is still young.

So that it wouldn't grow up to eat the father.

It actually said this in Korean.

 

My mom got me out of the house after the age 17. Fearing something might happen.

 

Ironically, it does 'protect' the child. I remember him in my 2nd grade, in Korea.

A orphan boy, I got into a fight with him, and he used his nails to scratch my face in many places.

And the teacher came over to our apartment to apologize or something like that.

There were 2 orphans that were attacked.

2nd and 3rd grade. I believe...

And I can't remember clearly, but as I written about it.

One of the kid, at the front of the gate of the school, which was cement pavement on the ground, he lifted him by one arm and kicked and dragged him, and made bloody scratches.

I remember an adult, pointing towards me when I was inside the car. Because the adult was blaming me somehow, because I ratted him out.

And I am surprised he didn't go to jail. And he was an orphan. AND another one that was another orphan. (This one was hit in the class) so I could say he targeted an orphan.

but in the apartment complex, another building, some older kid punched me with his friends, taking turns, and, he beat him up in front of his father.

So yes, he was protective over his child.

 

And at the same time, couldn't control his temper. So inside the home, about once every six months or so. Something would happen. Something would grow in him. And this was not by alcohol. And I was hit. In terrifying ways. Controlled hits, but enough to bruise.

Another time, it decided to hit me with a tennis racket instead of kicks. Because that is more "civilized". And after that I couldn't go to school for quite a while. I was suffering from fever that day and day after, and hard to *walk. Bloody bruises. And I remember it smiling as it hit me. That was actually a controlled hit without rage intact. But fun.

 

So don't give me that. This was a violent psychotic thing, and if there was peace in my family.

I wouldn't be the way I am now. That is in a way, partly disabled. And socially phobic, and fearful of people. And myself, unable to control my own ego. *In that area. I see people resembling my father, often. Abusive, controlling, violent.