I’m inadequate,” so said my father. What a bastard he was, the worst type who was struck on violence and self-pity to fool the medics. He would leave me in pain after threatening me with a knife because he preferred to keep the fear going for longer. Watch the fear in your eyes. He was evil, simple and easy. I sit there huddled up, looking small and fearful, not knowing what’s coming. What did I become? A shivering wreck, losing my hair, palpitations and haunted eyes.

I couldn’t go anywhere without looking over my shoulder. Who’s there? I can see you, but why follow me? Above my head, the rain clouds have gone leaving a full moon mirrored in the many puddles along the road. I see movement ahead that glides easily and silently. Can I hear footsteps, the squelch of shoes walking on wet ground? What I hear is the sound of my footsteps echoing off the walls, creating loathing and fear stirring me to stand and fight. I may be fearful but run away. I won’t do that. I’m only facing myself and self-loathing for the other half that is me. Why could I not stand up to the bully, protect my mother, my sister?

Instead, I ran and ran and ran until they lost me far from home with no intention of returning. I have a strong dislike of bullies, men who beat women and children. They, too, should feel the pain they inflicted by having someone bigger and stronger come along and teach them that lesson.

Will it work? I do not understand. The thought of karma taking its toll will be a delight to see, and when the bully lies flat out gasping for breath, what shall I say. Maybe you should turn your life around. Walk like a man and not swagger like a bully.