You grew up knowing you're father, William, to be abusive. No, he would never hit you or even lay a finger on you. You where his son, his pride and joy. But you're mother, that was a whole different story.

While you grew up, you saw him hit her, scream at her and insult her every way he could. Yet he treated you like a prince, making you grow up like him.

Now, you where 15. You got caught smoking in school so you and you're mother started to have a fight in the kitchen. You where both yelling, untill you eventually snapped and suddenly hit her hard across the cheek. You weren't weak at all either, you're father made you practice with him since you where little.

You're mother froze, reaching up to put a hand on her cheek while staring at you in complete shock. You hit her, her own son. William was busy watching a game in the living room. He saw everything, and was just so proud of you, feeling like he taught you correctly.