breathe.

it started at 7

I'm outside with my brother (the good man), we were playing a game we called "space shooters" where we had old metal sticks that came from brooms that we used as guns, and trash bins and rubbish we used for aliens; the smaller the target, the harder it was, the more fun it was. We played it a lot.. until one day, it all stopped. You see, things got a little too carried away, and in my offence, it was my fault to begin with, and I've even got the puncture in the back of my skull to prove it. What had happened was, my brother and I were outside, swinging our guns around the backyard, shooting and whacking the aliens, before they came into the house.. one got too close the door and.. well.. thinking it was a real situation, I threw my gun at the door.. I missed. (you're probably thinking, "that's alright then, you didn't break anything at least"), but guess again my friend; I smashed the window. My brother, he was scared shitless.. man you shoulda seen the look on his face. Priceless. and I was there laughing cause I "KILLED THE ALIEN" and "SANDRIEL!!!" My brother cried out "WHAT DID YOU DO, WE'LL BE IN SO MUCH TROUBLE FOR THIS". And I was completely oblivious to this, thinking it was all good, and that nothing bad was gonna happen.. Mind you, this was probably the highest peak of my childhood, it was where I thought there was nothing to worry about, life was good, and I was protecting my family from imaginary aliens.. Can't say that anymore, but life WAS good.

My dad arrives home from work, and FYI we lived in Padstow at the time, and this was 2-5 years after we moved to Australia so this was all fresh, my siblings and I are used to Australian culture and what's deemed "normal" around here, and in terms of punishments, in my mind? Wasn't gonna be that bad.. but because my dads an immigrant.. who "worked" his ass to come to this country, his views on punishments was completely different.. and extremely violent. He walks in the door, and as usual, walks straight to the kitchen for some supper, and as he steps right in, immediately, he sees the broken window, and my brother and I sitting at the dinner table with the rest of the family, and straight away he sees the fear in my brothers face, and I've never seen him so afraid.. it was an uncomfortable vibe that even a child felt. My dad walks up to him, gently puts his hand at the back of his head, and smashes his head in on the dinner table, smashing his plate in the process and asks "who did it?" and my brother, in fear and in my assumption, to protect me says nothing; bless his soul though, his attempts to protect me didn't last long, but he didn't need to protect me, but I guess in his eyes, he didn't want me to go through what they did.. but that didn't work either. My dad slams his head on the table a second time and asks again "who did it?".. everyone on the dinner table is shaking, I'm speechless and my sisters are crying, and my brother struggling to speak and my other brother, just watching with a dead expression.. and mum? Just overlooking the situation. My brother with guilt that he had to tell dad it was me, and struggling to breathe confesses it was me.. and I, a seven year old child with puppy dog eyes? Slowing turns my head up towards my dad and says I'm sorry.

He smiles and sighs and boy, how quick that smile turned into rage. (To your imagination) I was a scrawny seven year old barely weighing 20kgs, wearing hand-me-down clothes from my siblings, and puffy hair similar to that of young Justin Bieber, with almost a full set of import asian baby teeth. He springs and lunges towards me, and grabs me by the neck and picks me up, throwing me up against the wall, my head hits first and then the rest of my body follows. To think my family, especially my mother would jump in and save me from this attack.. well let's say from that day, even I, a seven year old, promised himself to never trust in another person again.. to keep to himself, and trust only himself. They stood by and watched.. in fear. Still holding onto my neck, my dad opens the back door, walks out onto the balcony, and throws me down onto the ground, gladly landing on my back, otherwise.. bye bye Sandriel. I'm now on the ground winded, out of breath and crying, and I look up at my dad as he calmly walks down the stairs and rolls his sleeves up and then walks and crouches down next to me, and asks "what did you break the window with?" I said "with my gun" and referring to my gun, the metal pole I use to shoot down aliens. He then asks "how?" And I say "I was shooting down the alien because it was going run into the house!" And he pauses.. stands up.. grabs the pole.. stops.. and says.. "this is what imagination gets you, anak" and the onslaught began..

*zwoop thud clank zwoop thud doof* as you imagined, those were the sounds you'd hear as my father swung that pole against my bony little body, and if you were there, you'd see me squirming, screaming, crying and begging for someone to come and stop it and help me get away from that onslaught.. obviously nobody came to my avail.. they just.. watched. "If you keep quiet, the quicker this will end" my father said to me as he was slowly bludgeoning me to death. But I couldn't conceal the pain, and as I cried out in pain, the harder the onslaught came, and the angrier he became. "QUIET!!" He yelled.. "the neighbours will hear" he whispered. My mother to my reliefs but at that point, it was already too late.. "ENOUGH!" She cried out "LOOK AT HIM" crying out with tears. My dad looks at me and says.. "he'll live." And at this point, he just wanted one.. last.. swing. *CRACK* right in the middle of the back of my skull, a puncture, a bumped scar, and a knocked out Sandriel holding onto dear life. God only knows what happened to my mother after that; Let's hope nothing bad. But even to this day, even though I understand you were in fear, I will never forgive you for just standing there, watching me get beaten to death.

I wake up a day and a half later, broken, bruised and bleeding, getting ready to go to school.. It was an interesting few days.. let's not get into that part.. let's just say, the aftermath changed my view on life forever.