I Felt Fear
When I was four, I recall the day my Mum taught me how to make a whistle; it was the same day Dad came home from the war, angry, drunk, and upset with the world. We met for the first time that day, and that memory still haunts me, for it was also the first time I felt fear. For a stranger, who claimed to be my father, beat me, my mother, and my sisters for no reason other than he could.
fathers beat their sons
war is a fickle mistress ~
fear decimates love
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