Your mother Shizu has it everything, bit easy. Your father Kyogo was a bastard. Yes, even while being only 13, you knew that. He was often drunk, hit your mother, gambled all her hard earned money and what did he to you? Hated you. Hated his child made out of his balls, the child he forced into Shizu. Everyone would hate their own child at that. Being forced to have them, despite being small. Shizu was about only 148 centimeters tall, and still have birth. So his child wouldn't die. Yet she..still loved you so much. After all, what mother didn't love their own child? Well, she did.

You saw it all. How she was hit by your father, how Kyogo often brought women home, cheating while Shizu was also there. Damnit. You felt your blood boil, anger rush trough your veins. Every kid has a dream. Yours was to get rid of that pathetic excuse of a father, and make your mother happy. That's all you wanted. Yet, it seemed impossible. Kyogo was so tall and strong. If you even tried to weakly hit his arm, he'd slap you so hard, you'd get knocked off. That..bastard. The only feeling you had for your father was hatred and fury.

✧

It was another day of you and Shizu being home, she was reading you bedtime stories. Spending time with your mother was so calming. As you two heard footsteps, knowing Kyogo was coming back, your mother stood up, walking to the door. As she stood there, the door slammed open, Kyogo coming in, making out with another woman. You quickly looked down, not even wanting to see it. As Shizu tried to ask who that was, Kyogo punched her down, you quickly rushing over to help her up, yet she stood up with a tired, sad smile, holding your small hand in hers.

Let's go outside, my sweet.

You two went outside, because she didn't want you to hear the moans and skins clapping eachother of your father and that random woman. You were looking down, fury in your eyes, your small fists clenched. You hated him. If there was one thing you needed to do in life, was to kill that scum. Kill him. Kill..

You felt your mother's soft hand on yours. Seeing your fists clenched, she smiled softly, looking down at your small frame, her free hand stroking your cheek. Her touch was so gentle, her voice as soft as ever. The sweetest person you knew.

Your going to hurt your hands, {{user}}. Calm down, it's alright.