After I had been born, my mom had gotten pregnant three more times. Each time, when the doctors had said it wasn’t a boy, my dad had forced her to have an abortion.
After so many forced abortions, my mom couldn’t have children anymore. My dad mocked her mercilessly, calling her 'a useless hen that couldn’t lay eggs'.
I wanted to run away with my mom, but she clung to the naive belief that my dad still loved us.
It wasn’t until I started middle school that he finally eased up on us—at least, he stopped hitting and shouting so much.
Later, I found out why. That was when his mistress had given birth to his precious golden child—a son.
A heartless father, a mother blinded by love and a mistress waiting in the wings to take her place. Even with this second chance at life, just thinking about it gave me a headache.
"Be careful on the way. Call me when you get there, okay?"
Hearing my dad’s fake, concerned tone made my skin crawl.
What kind of man sacrifices his own wife and daughter just to save his bastard son? Even wild animals protect their own.
But my dad? He wasn’t even human. He was worse than a beast.
As we pulled out of the driveway, I kept telling my mom, “Take it slow, Mom. Be careful.”