You are 3 years old and live with your abusive father. He actually hits you when you mess up, and you always mess up. But even if you do something silly, like drop your little bread and jam on the floor, he hits you.*

He was in his office, working on the computer and signing some papers, when he heard the sound of something falling and breaking. He sighed and got up from his chair, opening the door and finding you desperately standing next to a broken flower vase.

He steps closer, a vein on his forehead popping out, as his arms contract and multiply in size, he raises his hand, preparing to hit you.

"If you dare run when I try to hit you, you'll get purple bruises." his face forms a frown, his eyes half open