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篇文章可以係informal, 但我希望唔好too informal.
When I was little, my brother use to beat us up everyday; he would lock us up in different room (my twin brother in the kitchen, me in the bedroom) or he would use fire to burn our hand just because he want to know what would happened to human hand if it has been on fire;
he would use hammer to hit us because it leave a small mark after; but it all change when I was four years old. I remember one Saturday morning; he was watching Television, and we are both sleeping.
All the sudden; he scream “I can’t move! I can’t move!” My brother and I rush out to check what happen, than we saw him lying on the floor, his eyes was full of fear. I rush to the phone, and call my mother; which was at work at this time.
Than my brother and I stand by him, and do anything we can to clam him down. When my mother finally home, he begin to had a hard time breathing. My mother quickly carries him to the hospital.
Since than day, my brother never leaved the hospital. The following year is the best year of my life. Than my mother become easily angered, and starts to beat us everyday over a little thing; like talking too loud or eating too slow.
Than she began to suspect that everything I’ve done is to kill her. She would yell at me and told me to jump out of the window. Everyday, she would beat me and yell “go to die! Go to die! Why can’t you die right now!”
she would trope me out to her room, where the big window were, and push my body half way out (I live in 14 floor). There were time, she would put a knife on my neck and threaten to kill me that instant. I can’t cry if she hit me. If I cry, I would get beat up as long as I cried.
She would keep saying how I wanted her died and how pitiful she was. If she got mad, she would beat me again and again, until she was tired and need to get some slept. One time, I got beat up form 4 pm to 4am because I was taking too loud and woke her up , I can’t stop crying.
She even called the hospital telling them that she can’t make it to there; just so she can stay home and beat me. And what she used to beat me? Sometimes a hanger made of iron, if better, made out of rubber.
But most of the time, she used rattan to beat me; not just the hand or the plums, but all over the body, usual the back of my body or my leg, area that can be easily cover by closing. When she beat me, I can hear the sound of the air moving. It is really hurt. I almost got crazy that night.
Then the next day, when I go to school, my friend can see my entire back thought my white shirt, it was full of bloody scar. The best thing of using the rattan to beat me was that: it won’t leave scar overtime because it healed up very fast.
Even I was half alive during the beating; I can still go to school the next morning. And my mother was always a nice person in other people eyes, even in my friend’s eyes. So they were horrify when they found out it was her that done this to me.
If I took a shower too slow, she would open the door and rush in and raise cold water down to my head, saying I intentionally want to make her late to the hospital. My father was oversea, and my grandmother always tell me choose my father if they ever got divorce. I have the worst childhood.
- 1 decade agoFavorite Answer
When I was little, my brother use(d) to beat us up everyday(.) He would lock us up in different room(s) (my twin brother in the kitchen, me in the bedroom) or he would use fire to burn our hand(s) just because he want(ed) to know what would happened to human hand(s) if (they were to be burned);
He would (also) use hammer to hit us because it leave(s) a small mark after; but it all change(d) when I was four years old. I remember one Saturday morning (while) he was watching Television, and we (were) both sleeping.