Chapter 9: Threesomes, Foursomes & Fist Fights

A few people have been letting me know what they think of this book as the story unfolds. One of the most common things people have said to me is that they are surprised and refreshed by the reality that I am so open with the painful details of my life. For a long time, and to this day, I have been ridiculed for saying "I am one of the most honest" social media influencers (not really an influencer anymore in my opinion). I am ridiculed by people, who would not know the truth if it slapped them upside the head. People do to me what many have done to you and others, they act like they know your life better than you do, and blatantly omit facts that don't fall in line with the preexisting narrative they have of you for the sake of personal gain.

There is a profound reason why my stories of my life remain as consistent as the average truthful memory would allow. There is a reason I put so many of my flaws and imperfections on display for all to see: Because that's honesty. I'd rather live life admitting my flaws and mistakes so I can grow to become a better person than live a life denying my imperfections, remaining the same delusional self-loving broken cliche of a person forever.

People have tried to censor me countless times, including trying to prevent this very book from ever seeing the light of day. They don't want me to share my life's experiences for fear of how it will make people feel. They hate it when I talk about abortion, childhood stories, people being the victim of horrible crimes and so on. My feelings about this: If you have done something, or shared with me something, that you don't want people to know about, you should not have done it, or shared it with me. When you did that, or gave that information to me, it became mine as well, because it is now part of my life, and I have every right to talk about my life/the things that impact it. I am a mostly open book when it comes to sharing my experiences, and the experiences of others that help shape their character while directly influencing me.

If people are afraid of embarrassment or other negative feelings from people knowing the truth about them, understand this: The same people that judge you, have probably done way worse than you. The Bible is wrong about a lot of things, but when they talk about the person without sin being the first to cast a stone, it implies no one should ever judge anyone, because everyone is disgusting on some level. For me, what I'm disgusting for? It's my issues with reacting to me feeling like my significant other doesn't love me, by breaking up with them. I have a constant mentality where I essentially relationship panic and reject people the moment I think they don't really love me. It's the root of many of my past relationship issues and continues to this day. It's the reason I've dumped people twice as much as I've ever been collectively dumped. I want so desperately to be loved by one person, that if I find they do not love me, I lose my self-esteem, my self-worth, break down with sadness or fear and end the relationship.

A lot of people will write books about themselves and leave out all their flaws and mistakes. They won't tell you their real opinions or take part in potentially divisive speech because their goal is primarily success/profit. They are often the richer for doing so. Using your emotions and opinions to extract money from you. But as I was in the beginning, I am not that person. I want to produce somethings special, not just a product.

I have made many enemies from expressing my views. Enemies who instead of asking themselves whether or not I'm right, instead of asking themselves if it's ok that people have different views, they resort to doing everything they can to silence me, discredit me & otherwise disparage my name. They've gone on documentaries lying about me, taking me consistently/laughably out of context, ignoring the police, the FBI, lawyers, and the legal system itself all so they can sell ads, get attention and continue painting me as a Charles Manson or Ted Bundy type. It's absurd, but not surprising.

These people are just like countless other people. When they lie, they no longer need to have rules like healthy people do. Liars like them have no moral limitations, and they have unlimited levels of delusion that allow them to reinvent the world how they see to such an extent that facts no longer matter to them. Who is right and wrong? Whoever they feel they can profit most from saying is right or wrong. Money, likes, shares or whatever else they get a kick out of, that's the goal. The truth simply doesn't matter to most people, so it seems.

It doesn't matter to them that nothing they said added up or showed any result. All that matters is that they come up with some other evil color to paint me with and everyone forgets that the last thing they tried to sling at me fell through, like all the other things, fell through.

I say all this because on top of trying to and successfully destroying my life in numerous ways (such as causing me to lose my job on numerous platforms despite having done nothing to violate the platform policies) they also tried to go after my right to have something as basic as my own voice.

What frauds always want people who tell the truth to do: Shut up. And they will try to shut up anyone who is a threat to anyone knowing who they really are.

But sadly, I strongly feel most people are frauds. Hence why when you expose the fraud, most people, simply don't care. Kind of like the meat industry. Many of you eat cows, chickens, pigs etc. I myself eat fish. Do any of us need to? Well... I would argue that we do need to eat fish, because people who eat fish statistically live longer, healthier lives, than people who do not. And yet, I sit here wondering, what is your excuse? Why do we put pigs, as smart as human children, in little cages, and slaughter them? Why do we eat baby sheep, baby cows? Does eating them extend your life expectancy? No. It doesn't.

It's one thing to do something because your body is designed for it, it's another to do something, despite your body suffering because of it.

The leading cause of death in the world? Heart failure? Cancer? The leading cause of heart failure, cancer etc? Diet.

And why? Why do you kill yourselves? Because it "tastes good". Enjoy eating and shitting out your own life, I guess. This is why I say most people are frauds. We pretend to be animal lovers, but most the time, we're just showing animals senseless cruelty. Shitting out them, their kids, their kid's kids and so on, because they "taste good" not factoring the fact that it's simultaneously killing us.

No one is more afraid of people talking, than frauds. Honest people will often say to liars, "Go ahead, talk." when it comes to sharing their own experiences, because they will trip up, they will present massive contradictions that even with added context make no sense. Dishonest people? When they see truthful people talk? They want them silenced or "de-platformed" as soon as possible so their lies cannot be revealed for what they are.

You might ask, "Well why would an honest person ever want someone to not talk? Why do agreements exist where people remain silent?" The answer to that is one I figured out over time. The reason you might not want someone to talk crap about you is because you don't want them to say something they don't mean in the heat of the moment.

I personally lost friends because I used to talk in the heat of the moment, all the time. Hence me dumping people before I could think things through. Eventually, I said so many mean things about people that I later regretted, burning bridges that I couldn't unburn, that I started signing agreements with my friends so that I would not, and they would not, handle our differences by saying things we could not take back on a public platform. This is part of the reason I exclude many names from this book and won't even discuss some stories about some people.

One person I signed an agreement with said months later on the phone that she regretted breaking the agreement (more specifically referencing her attacking me publicly) as once she calmed down, she realized all she had done is hurt herself and the people she once claimed to care about. Yes, she made a lot of money doing it, through her own admission, but money didn't fill the hole she dug, and now? A friendship is destroyed forever. One she seemed to value when she wasn't blinded by rage.

Regardless, frauds often live in constant fear. Fear that they will be found out, fear of their own reflection.

The reality: I sleep very well at night because I shamelessly tell the truth on a constant basis, regardless of how it makes me look.

Do you?

Let's go back to my eighth-grade life, as it turns out, the year was quite eventful, and worth more than one chapter.

Some people online seem to have the idea that when I was in High School, I was a slut: No, I wasn't, not by a long shot. The concept was shared, spread and people believed it. In reality, the only person I had slept with in my first year, was one person, the girl much of the last chapter was dedicated to. But it brings you to question: Why do people who spread rumors online think I am capable of sleeping with countless people? Not only morally, but you really think I'm that attractive?

It reminds me of people spreading the rumor that I stuffed my pants. It's like: You realize that by saying what you just did, you're implying a compliment, right? You're once again wrongfully assuming you know more about me, than me. And because I know the truth, and you're gambling, I guess, you think I'm packing. I disagree, but clearly, that's your opinion.

"Onision slept with everyone when he was in grade school!"= "Onision was attractive to people in grade school!"

"Onision stuffs his pants!" = "I observed Onision's bulge and think it's big!"

Just stating the obvious.

Regardless, my goth girlfriend at the time had a gay friend, yes, the twin brother. He went through a very embarrassing transition into being gay, and I think it was partially my fault.

One of the times I was likely single/apart from my goth girlfriend, he handed me a note right before I got on the bus one day. I read it, and it was him confessing his love for me. It felt kind of crappy because I had recently dated his friend, but I guess he had been holding on to his feelings for some time, and it bottled up till it erupted onto the unfolded note.

He and I hung out after school a day after he confessed his love for me. We decided to go to a grocery store near the apartments he lived in. I had reacted to his not in a very good way for the time period. I thought "Oh, he's gay, I feel sad because I'm straight and I have to let him down/maybe hurt his feelings with rejection." In that grocery store, I did in fact, let him down. I told him I'm straight, but if he wanted to kiss me, there in that store, he was welcome to (as you likely know very well, I'm pretty open/supportive of gay people and show serious gay tendencies myself). The guy reacted in a way that was not expected. Standing there in his goth clothing, about 4 inches shorter than me, painfully pale skin, he looked around nervously and then back at me. After some thought, he said "No never mind."

After I told this goth guy, who said he was in love with me, that I was straight, but he could still kiss me, in front of everyone? He realized in that moment he was ashamed of being gay and didn't want others to see him be gay. What other reason could there be? He already expressed his love for me, and what came later made that conclusion even more clear.

I personally, as usual, didn't care what people thought of me, gay or straight. I just figured, if this gay guy wants to kiss me, he can do that. It makes little difference to me, and makes him very happy, based on what his letter said, so why not get a little of that out of his system?

After weeks of internal battling with himself, to my disbelief, the goth boy did what is one of the most atrocious acts known to all goths around the world: He turned prep.

Not only did this guy turn into a prep (we're talking dying his hair from black to blonde, wearing tan pants and baby blue shirts) but he also converted to Christianity. What, in the late 90's, did Christianity push really hard? Not being gay.

I can't help but think, the person who fried this dude's brain, was me. Accidentally, but still. Having him confront his homosexuality in front of everyone in that store? Offering to kiss him right there? It seemed to have pushed him over the edge so far, that he threw his homosexuality away. He pretended to be straight from that point on.

The goth boy turned prep Christian is, no doubt by this time, back to being true to himself, hopefully openly and proudly. In reality, I have no idea. We lost touch after 9th grade and there isn't much left to the story between us.

Unfortunately for me, one morning at my school, when I was in my 20-something hot teacher's class, a boy was outside the door trying to distract everyone from our hot teacher's lesson for the day. After enough taunting and yelling from this boy in the hallway, my hero complex, once again, kicked in. I saw my teacher's frustration. This boy was like a live stream troll commenter in real life that you just couldn't block.

I decided to walk over to the door and say: "I'm sorry you can't comprehend the concept of learning, but that's what we're currently trying to do, so if you could fuck off that would be great." I closed the door on his shocked face and returned to my class where the hot teacher looked at me concerned. Regardless, she continued her class.

After class was over, the teacher and a student approached me separately, worried for my safety. This boy I had just insulted in front of everyone, was a football-playing jock. A short jock, but head to toe, muscles. Our school was no stranger to state championships, so this guy being on a leading football team? He was a force to be reckoned with. Unlike the other students, I was too stupid to know what I got myself into. He was a brown spikey haired acne faced ball of testosterone. Kind of like if you shrank Gordon Ramsey down, made him an expertly trained football player, and gave him the ability to bench... I don't know, 250lbs?

I told the teacher and the concerned student that I was fine, and left class without much fear at all. The jock followed me, a goth boy, down the hallway, taunting me. I ignored his taunts and had reached the cafeteria. Other students were following us as they sensed the excitement in the air. As I went to leave the main building, he pushed me from behind. I, instinctively, turned around and pushed him back. A millisecond after I "did the right thing and stood up for (myself)!" as my mom would always imply: Boom, my shit got rocked.

I want you guys to understand, there is a reason they say "rocked" when they refer to people punching each other. When you get punched in the head? It doesn't feel like a fist, it feels like a literal rock, a massive rock, hit your head. Your entire skull shakes, like an Earthquake. All the pieces that hold your skull together tremor, and your vision often goes fuzzy.

Everyone has a general plan for how they think a fight will go till they get rocked, right? I had no plan at all. I wasn't wanting to fight.

I hadn't been in a fight in a very long time. The last time I fought someone was when my sister disconnected my internet, and that was the first fight I won against her in our many battles. The last fight I actually really won, like full on threw punches was second grade, and even then, half the fight I was on the ground. You could assume I was out of practice. The boy had hit me in the head for pushing back when I was pushed, as a result, I instinctively put up my fists like I was going to fight him, but then, another rock hit me. My motor skills and lights went ghost.

I wasn't unconscious on the floor, no. I wasn't off my feet at all. I was what I assume people call a "Standing KO" meaning, my eyes are open, I look like I'm ready to fight, but there's literally no one home. Try keeping a clear train of thought when you just got punched a couple times in the face/head.

The boy kept punching me, mostly with uppercuts, and I would fall into the crowd surrounding us as they chanted, laughed and screamed "Oh!" every time I got hit.

While I couldn't really process what I was seeing, I could hear. The joy people felt from witnessing me be harmed, not even knowing me, it seared a permanent and incurable frustration with most humans. When you hear about school shootings in the news? Another (often white boy) has a melt down and brings a gun to school? This type of situation, this unforgivable widespread lack of humanity by one's peers, mixed with a special type of homicidal mental illness (that I fortunately did not have), is why you have many school shootings.

People don't understand how evil, and horrible, not just High School students can be, but all humans. These people gathered around, to sadistically get off on someone potentially suffering serious injury, injury that could ruin them for the rest of their life. How are those people going to ask for sympathy or mercy when it's them being harmed? When they took so much joy in the suffering of others?

Imagine an actual school shooting happening by a kid who was bullied by countless people in that school. Imagine you torture that kid till they break, and they wind up getting a gun, and holding it to your head... do you ask that kid not to shoot as you piss yourself? Do you think he will show you sympathy when you showed him none? Or in my case, worse, when you celebrated his suffering? When you yelped with joy at his downfall like a psychopath?

No, I was better than that. I didn't have that mental illness; I didn't have that need to end lives just because people are shit. The people who shoot up schools are idiots. The people who bully those kids who shoot up schools, both before and after the fact? They are also idiots. All of it is stupid, and yet most everyone continues to blame the act, and not the cause. When is the last time you heard about a water park being shot up? Never? Because water parks aren't where people typically get bullied/tortured. Schools are. Don't just judge the act, judge the cause. Get to the root of the problem. It isn't just guns, it's also the monsters that made the monster.

At that time, I wasn't a kid that was known by much of anyone. There was no reason for people to hate me and enjoy seeing me be get my teeth literally chipped (from so many uppercuts) and my head rocked, but they enjoyed it anyway. My pain was their drug. What a bunch of sick, unforgivable creeps.

I know I'm not like them because I saw fights form before, I even yelled at the people forming mobs around the fights that they were "Sick fucks", but they of course didn't hear me, and only focused on the bliss they felt from seeing others suffering.

As the fight I was in continued, and the worthless lives around me celebrated a stranger being torn apart in front of them, my sister's jock boyfriend decided to step in. Problem is, he was on the same football team as the guy beating the living shit out of me. So, what did he do? He grabbed me by the coat I was wearing, lifted me of my feet and threw me across the room against the cement wall behind me. The dude lifted half a car in front of me before, so his strength was no surprise. What he did may have seemed like an act of mercy, ending the fight, but to me at the time, it was betrayal. You're going to date my sister, and take the side of some jock asshole over me?

I spent the rest of the day in the nurse's office, but fortunately, I had a visitor. My girlfriend decided to drop by, and she did an incredible job with comforting me. See? That's something that helps prevent school shootings: Having a girlfriend. I know, some will take what I'm saying as super messed up, but welcome to reality. The world isn't the one you make up in your crazy head. The world is what it is regardless of the one that exists in your mind. Accept it.

Fact is, if there was love in these idiot school shooter's lives, they would never become school shooters. But they didn't have a girlfriend to kiss them and hug them like I did. They didn't have the same reasoning skills I did, to factor in all the innocent lives that would be lost by mistake during such a moronic act as shooting helpless people. School shooters have all the wrong tools (guns) and none of the right ones (love). That is everyone's problem and everyone's fault.

In that office, I continued to kiss my girlfriend, she held my hand, she touched my inner leg, held an ice pack to my head, held her hand to my heart and so on. Basically, she was, in that moment, the best girlfriend on the planet. Are you ready for it though? You know how I mentioned telling the clouds to stop dropping rain on us all, then they did? Remember how when I was punched, I said it was like my head had an earthquake? You should stop real quick, stop reading this book, and go check the history of Washington State earthquakes in the Puget Sound area.

Did you look it up? Because on that rare day... sitting in that nurses office, with my girlfriend, the earthquake hit. It was jut like in my favorite video game Final Fantasy VII where Cloud Strife is sitting with his friend Tifa Lockhart in the doctor's building, and the ground starts shaking. Only the ground in the game wasn't like the ground where I was. The floor seemed like liquid as we were lifted up and down by the shifting plates. It was like, for a moment, we were on a boat in the middle of the ocean. I told my girlfriend to come with me and stand in the door frame, as that is what I was told to do during earthquakes, and as I recall, it's what we did.

After the earthquake was done, we all walked outside the school. In the parking lot stood the boy who had beat the hell out of me, waiting, about 500 meters away. He smiled at me, taunted me from a far. My girlfriend flipped him off, with her little goth arm high in the air and said to me "What a fucking idiot. Ignore him." I was filled with pride, and I hugged her. He was alone, no girlfriend with him. In the grand scheme? No matter how much he punched me, he didn't walk away a winner.

Winning to me isn't having money, it isn't having power... it's love. Nothing matters more.

In the same year, I made other friends with a couple of my girlfriend's acquaintances as well. One person was a girl who was semi-chubby, but in all the right places. She wore glasses, had long Amish brown hair & you guessed it, had rocking pale skin. She and I would eyeball each other all the time, but never really do anything about it as we were both in relationships with others. She would sometimes talk about sex with her boyfriend, and I wouldn't feel bad because while I was attracted to her, I had my own lover, so it was more like just friends talking about their intimate life without any tension or expectations. Kind of cool. Another friend of hers I spoke to: A blonde- short haired druggy girl, she wore raver clothes, you know, neon colors, baggy pants, that whole thing. That girl was telling me that she had sex with someone while on E (the drug), and that now sex is never as good for her. As if she chemically ruined her sex life forever. She would hit on me constantly, and I liked it, but I never returned the flirtation as I didn't really know how to flirt and I'm pretty sure I was in a relationship when she and I interacted, so I remained loyal. Pretty sure she complimented my butt (or insulted it, don't recall) at some point and I'm also fairly sure we ran into each other many years later at the mall. That was weird, and brief.

Yet another friend of the girlfriend, who I was not friends with, you know, the curly black-haired girl with glasses and seemed to be very Jewish? At one point she suggested to my girlfriend, unbeknownst to me, that the three of us have a threesome. When my girlfriend passed on the message that this girl wanted to have a threesome with me and her, I was horrified. I wasn't attracted to this girl and was very monogamous at the time.

Later in life, I would have a number of threesomes, but at that age, I was much more uptight and had a different set of ideals.

When I told my girlfriend that offended me, the idea of having a threesome with her friend, she passed on the message and that was it. She never suggested anything like that to me again. Her friend went on to get a boyfriend, who I thought was handsome. And she found another couple with him to have a foursome with. My girlfriend told me after they had a foursome, that everyone was breaking up with each other. Why? Because apparently during their foursome, two of them left the room to clean themselves/freshen up in two different bathrooms, while the other two decided "You know what? We should continue having sex!" which if they had all agreed was ok, fine... but it turns out, not everyone was cool with that, and the two that were left in the room? Not dating each other. They were both with the different people who had left the room.

Imagine that you have a foursome, you leave your girlfriend or boyfriend in the room, and come back, boom: They're banging each other still. Go figure. I don't understand jealousy when you've reached the point of three and foursomes (kind of implied everyone would be sleeping with everyone), but hey, if you want to be toxic, be toxic.

It was actually the Jewish lady who was left in the room to "cheat" as I recall.

I had also heard rumors that my girlfriend had dated the girl who suggested a threesome before she dated me, and that they had "Shared dildos". All of this made me even more uncomfortable with this geeky curly-haired friend. But whatever. She was never actually mean to me, just a very adventurous, drug peddling person. Not compatible with me or my life, but fine in her own world, far from me/my eye-rolling.

At one point, when I wasn't breaking up with my girlfriend for doing drugs when I told her not to, I decided to break up with her for another reason. She was with a group of her friends, sitting on my lap in her goth trench coat and shiny black skirt. I was attempting to speak with her as we all sat around a table in the cafeteria after-school hours. As I repeatedly tried to speak to her, she consistently ignored me, and continued interacting with her friends. In that moment, I felt like she didn't love me, I felt like, just with weed/cigarettes, she cared more about something else than me. It hurt deeply because I cared more about her than anything.

What do people who don't know how to handle their problems do when someone they love more than anything, seems to not love them the same? They often throw a tantrum and destroy the relationship they have with the person they love.

I asked her to get off my lap, I calmly told her "We're done, it's over." and walked out the front doors of the school, right in front of all her friends. I left her there, to be sad about that, because I was an asshole.

I wasn't just an asshole for dumping her. I was an asshole for dumping her on February 13th, the night of that day no less. I later apologized for dumping her the day before Valentine's Day, that was so messed up. She again, took me back.

At one point, my girlfriend spent time with me at a football game where the geek curly haired friend (with glasses) slipped me a half red half white pill to "get high" off. She said under her breath in my ear that it was "speed". As usual, I was disgusted by the apparent former girlfriend of my girlfriend. I put the pill in the nearest trash I could find minutes later.

I remained, a boring ass straight edge. And if you're wondering, decades later, I'm still a boring ass straight edge.

My girlfriend and I also went to a local concert together. The band had a very small crowd. It was somewhere in Lakewood Washington, at a run-down concert room. The building was so crappy it was as if it was a comedy club from the 1960's that they never bothered updating.

At the concert I just stood there, watching the bands, but not really moving or dancing in any way because I simply felt the music was bad. My girlfriend kept saying "Come on, dance." but I wasn't having it. So instead? She would rub her butt against my crotch and dance in front of me, in the most goth rocker chick way you'd probably imagine. Not a bad time.

Basically, if you have not gathered yet, I was really unenthusiastic about the teenage cliches I was expected to partake in. I refused to do drugs, I didn't want to "party" and all I really wanted to do was play video games, design web sites, write poems, cuddle and have sex with my girlfriend. To a lot of people, my desires in life sounds awesome. It works for many. But my girlfriend? She liked some of that, but also wanted to live the drug life, she wanted to live as if she was in a rock band, and that, was not me, at all.

The final straw with my girlfriend was when her gay friend, now pretend-straight and preppy, revealed to me (when he was not trying to convert us all to Christianity) that my girlfriend had again been doing drugs behind my back. He felt it would be funny to break us up. So, he hinted that she was not loyal to me, but wouldn't tell me how. So, I asked if it was about another person, she might have been disloyal with, he said no. I asked if it was about drugs, and he smiled, ear to ear. I didn't need further confirmation from this freckled pale prep boy.

After school I confronted her and dumped her. I don't remember getting back with her after that. Although, I did get to see her again twice. I was still in love with her both times I saw her. I don't think some of you understand what talking to someone as much as I talked to her can do to a person. We looked at each other's souls with love, she eventually took my virginity and even if she wound up being some kind of swamp creature, I would love her deeply while everyone around me ran in horror.

One final time I saw her was in Ohio, while I was staying with my dad. She, as I found out, had a twin sister, and with her mom, they were driving across country. They wanted to see me, so I welcomed them over.

When she was at my dad's house, I talked about how much I missed her, and had hoped she would make out with me. Her sister being there, left no opportunity for us to attack one another with pent up love. We made a joke about running into my closet to do it, but never did. It just felt, so weird.

There was another time when she had come back to Lakewood for a while and wanted to visit me again. She had gained weight, and a double chin, but I didn't care much. I was deeply in love with her still. It hurt my heart to hear her talk because every word reminded me of the relationship we had, how much we bonded and how much I loved her.

We walked down to a creek together, the very last time we hung out. She was wearing the same clothes, goth as ever, with KISS-style boots on. We walked on rocks just above the water, trying not to slip and fall in the creek. We laughed together and bonded about the times we had before, but that was all. Our time was over, she went her way, I went mine.

The last time we spoke was many years later. She indicated on the phone that she had gained tons of weight, like her mom, and had since changed her last name. She was married to a man she wasn't seemingly very fond of, as I recall, she was considering divorce or already divorced. Additionally, she had three kids now. This woman had grown up much faster than me.

We talked about her being rejected from the US Air Force for her having self-harm wounds. We talked about what her life was like now, and from everything we spoke of, I could see, the person I knew before, was gone. The woman on the phone with me, no longer had that fire burning inside.

Some people take a very long time to let their hopes die. To give up on their dreams and just let time take them. Others? They find the path they'll be on for the rest of their life, right away. I hope she's doing great now. I will always miss and cherish the talks we used to have.

In fact, while I wish her well a little more than most, I do wish everyone reading this well too. Everyone not reading it? I wish them the same. I learned in life, wishing people ill, is a crime upon yourself.

At home, after getting in trouble for cutting a hole in my closet wall to increase my storage space, and for a number of other things I don't even recall, my mom seemed to want to get rid of me. We got in arguments and at one point my mom had hit me with a massive flashlight that felt like it bruised my hip.

When my mom was attacking me that time, I was on my bed, on my back, with my feet blocking her from getting to my face. My mom had chased me into my room, I was backing away consistently, but she insisted on following me leading me to tripping onto my bed. She smacked me with the big yellow flashlight, and I pushed her with both feet to get off of me. She left the room and did not try to hit me with the flashlight again. I just laid there, holding the impact area.

One massive sigh for mankind.

A number of other problems mounted, and after so much nonsense, I indicated I wanted out. It was time to go live with my father.