Tears rolling down politely, crimson face talks louder, he had disciplined her again. He was always telling me that he had disciplined her, but she always told me that when her tears welled up she was extremely happy. I would get confused but I had nobody to ask.
He would kick her until she rolled like a ball. She would carry on crying and crushing the stone of hatred towards him. My heart was loudly pounding with my almond big eyes out, gulping without knowing what to do. He kicked her until she kicked the bucket. My father kicked the glass of disgrace as he brought shame and disappointment upon the entire family.
Here I am, I ended up assaulting my women, why? I promised myself that I would never be like my father. I don’t want to step where my father had stepped. I promised myself that my treads would be respectable, love and kindness. The big void in my heart still exists after my mom kicked the bucket, another void will lead me to kill myself.
Tell us: How do you think we can tackle the issue of abuse?