"WHERE WERE YOU?! YOU HATE YOUR DAD DON'T YOU, YOU LITTLE BRAT!!", the sentence echoed in my mind nonstop as I kneeled in front of my drunk father, bitting through every kick and punch he threw at me. I knew that if I were to flinch or retaliate in any way, I might run the risk of getting killed. So I no choice, but to kneel and try my utmost best to protect my head from getting injured seriously. I pleaded for forgiveness repeatedly, even though I knew deep inside me, I have done nothing to deserve this treatment. 

My name is Jae, Lee Jae. I lost my mother at the age of 3, to a severe car accident. I don't know the exact details, partly because half of me didn't want to know and the other half had no one to turn to ask even if curiosity struck it. With the car accident, I lost not only my mother, but my father's sanity as well. He threw his business aside and turned alcoholic. He turned into a beast that never knew its limits. Since I was still young and naive and my father had no capability of taking care of me, hence I was pushed into an orphanage confused, afraid and clueless as to what my role in this world was. My caretaker, whom I referred to Mimi, was friendly and I grew to love her dearly as she guided me along the right path and educated me well. With her I felt safe and with safety, came my courage to make friends. Unfortunately, my caretaker was old, so inevitably, she passed away when I was 12. That year, was also the year my dad took me back home. 

I was shocked at the news of me being able to go home with my biological dad, and not some foster parents I thought I would end up with one day. "Maybe he's gotten over it...", I whispered so softly to myself, pretty sure no one could hear me. Having been away for 9 years, everything seemed so foreign back home. "I had a home~", I thought to myself quietly, somewhat trying to recall the fact that I once had a family. The fact that my mother was gone, I had overcomed. But my father? I wasn't so sure then, I thought he had, but to my horror, I was in for a nightmare. 

The first night was awkward. The house was in terrible shape and it felt like if I were to dig further, I would find rotting objects lying here and there. "Eat", thundered my father, as he threw a piece of stale bread onto the table in front of me. He lighted a cigarette and sat directly opposite of me, blowing out the second-hand smoke right into my face. I choked and coughed, and just as I was about to pick up the bread to feed my hungry self, a large hand flew across my face, sending me flying over to my side. My ears were ringing. My skin crawled with a piercing pain I had never felt before. Tears rolled down my eyes instantaneously, but I was too shocked to realise it. Before I could even make out what I did wrong and why I got slapped, he kicked me and whacked me with every opportunity he could find. I couldn't retaliate. I couldn't do anything. I was helpless. 

I crawled in seering pain to a corner of the house, still completely dazed and scared wits at what had just happened. My dad opened a bottle of soju and downed it with a blink of an eye, repeating the cycle again and again, cursing and swearing nonstop. I just sat there, shivering away, not knowing if I was extremely hungry, extremely injured, or extremely scared. I couldn't decipher, and my tears didn't exactly help the situation. My heart thumped loudly and wildly as though it was on fire. Next thing I knew, I managed to fall asleep. 

Sunlight shot straight onto my face, and I was awoken by the glaring lights. Sprawled disgracefully on the floor was my drunk father along with empty bottles after bottles of soju. Everything that happened still fresh within me, I limped in pain while trying to be as quiet as possible, so as not to awaken the beast in slumber. As quickly as I could, I cleaned up the place and ran to the toilet to wash myself up. I would never ever forget that bath I had, for it was the most painful, psychologically and physically, bath I had ever taken. I looked at the fresh bruises blooming almost everywhere on my body. A wave of embarrassment and fear hit me. "It's alright Jae. You can pull through this. Maybe he just needs time...", I said to myself, unsure if it was a lie or the truth, as I put on fresh new clothes that didn't really help in covering my insecurities.

"YOU LITTLE B*TCH!!!!", my father roared from outside the toilet, jolting me so hard I bit myself on the lip, I started to bleed. I scurried out of the toilet to find the beast still obviously beaten by the power of alcohol, but somewhat conscious enough to terrorize me. "WHERE'S THE FOOD?!" He screamed again. I hurriedly gathered whatever money I could find and ran out of the house in search for the supermarket or any convenience store, temporarily forgetting the injuries I had obtained just a few hours ago. 

Stares were prominant, as I half limped half brisk walked down the streets, in search for my destination. I was too scared of a second round of whatever punishment to even feel embarrassed about my newly tattooed body. Looking at the meager amount of money I had in my hands, I figured that I could only afford 2 cup ramen. Hurriedly, I bought whatever I could find, leaving the place as fast as I could while ignoring the judgemental yet somewhat mocking stare by the cashier. 

At the lunch table, as I set up the 2 cup ramen I bought earlier on, I heard my father scuffling around the house and grumbling away, obviously displeased at something. "Be respectful and nice Jae. Maybe I was rude last night...", I reminded myself. 

"WERE YOU THINKING OF EATING THAT!?" It was more of an angry remark than a question.

"Y-y-yes Father. I could only get 2." I didn't know how I managed to say anything, but it came out anyway. And with that, came 2 slaps across my face. Without knowing, I immediately got onto my knees and pleaded for forgiveness, rubbing my hands together fervently, receiving more new tattoos. 

I lived this way for the next 6 months. If I was lucky, I'd find alone time when the Beast slept or went out to gamble, I assume. There were times when he never came home for a few days and those were recovery time. Every other second, I was either being beaten up, or shouted at. But I always remembered what Mimi told me - "Jae, you must always be kind and respectful to people around you. You must always learn to love and forgive. Only then will you find happiness." , and still heeded her advise. Whether it was the right thing to do, I wasn't sure.