Agony, Pain, And Suffering, My Hatred Of My Father Burn Like A Thousand Sun!My name is T.A.C. I'm a 21 years old Asian male student at Mission College and in a way I suppose that I'm a child abuse survivor. I'm writing this in hope that someone know of my story and perhaps will one day strive for a world without so much hurt. This is the story of my abuse in Viet Nam.
The earliest memories of beatings I get was when I was around 8 years old. I don't really remember the caused of my suffering, but I do remember who caused it and the its detail down to the last second. I've been beaten to pulp, kick in the stomach, punch in the stomach, whipped all over from head to toes, kick down two flight of stair, thrown off a motorcycle and even made to eat paper.
My father is arrogant, evil, anger-management needed bastard, he usually would beat me at least two times a day without any cause, on good days I'll get kick down the stair, and on bad days the whipping. I usually would hide underneath the stair whenever he come home from his work, he's a construction company president. One time, he made some sort of losses in profit and when he come home, he saw me doing my homework and for no reason at all, started whipping me with his crocodile belt. That was bad, heck you could probably do tic-tac-toe on my chest alone ten times over, the croc belt really leave a mark, my entire body look like some snake was wrapping around me. But the beating did not stop there, he decide it aint enuf, and made me watch him mashing all my toys with a hammer. But that was not the worst, the worst to my thinking after all these years was probably the motorcycle incident, I remember it clear as day, my father went about of tell me he's going to take me to see my uncle who's in a hospital, and on the way there, he chose the alleyway to get to the hospital, and all the sudden, he grab a hold on my collar and thrown me down the ground while driving.....I hit the rough ground with my face and injure my knees and hand....there was a lot of blood and I was screaming pretty loudly. people came out and when ask, my dad said that I felled down because I didn't hold on to the seat properly.
The result of that outcome was that I couldnt walk for a whole 2 month, looking back I realized that may have been the worst abuse I ever got. But then, as an 8 years old, I generally just forget about it and think nothing about it. When I was about 9 years old, one day I came home with an F on my history test (probably shouldn't have bring it home) and my father who just happened to lose some customer to his competition, decide to take his anger out on me, the first the kick down the stair, then he gave me an ultimatum: Shred my test paper and eat it OR get whipped, (here's a hint, I puked), after that he started to beat me down with his fist, on the stomach mostly, the last straw was after the beating, he took my most favorite blanket and burn it in front of me...............I swore that day that I will never forgive him as long as I lived...........and that I will never ever be anything like him.