“Ouch.” I grunted, looked down on my hand. The welts and black-and-blue marks were still quite vivid, especially where dad had hit me hard. “My God.” Mum cried, her sudden appearance shocked me. “What happened to you?”

“Nothing.” I said; quickly hide my hand on my back.

“That is more than nothing, dear.” Mum quickly reached out my arm, putting down her grocery bag. She looked more horrified when she came closer.

“Who could do this to you?”

“I’m all right mum. Don’t worry.” I tried to walk away, but to no avail.

“You better spit out the dirt right now, young girl.” She demanded.

I hesitated. And suddenly the world seem to come apart of me. I couldn’t control myself. The tears that had welled up in my eyes for so long, tears that I had driven back, flooded, poured out of me with no restraint. I began to sob unstoppably. Mum had helped me to the chair.

“It’s okay. It’s okay...” mum embraced me. “Now tell me. Where did you get all these bruises?” she asked in a firm voice.

I took a deep breath. Did it matter anymore who knew and what sort of a horrible life I had? I stared down the floor, tears dripped off my chin.

“Daddy,” I said in a sad voice, holding back my tears. “He--he...,”

“Tell me slowly, take your time.” She held on my trembling hand.

“He hit me... with anything that he can grab on.” I blurted.

She stared at me for a moment, and then she stood up. “I’ll call him and talk to him. And sue him. How dare he do this to you after he done it with me?” She growled, dialing on her cell phone.

Did I just hear it correctly? Dad done this to mum too? My head started to spun around, I started to felt guilty, offended. All these year, I place the blame on mum, cursing at her for leaving me behind. I felt like a child, being so naive, without thinking deeper and search for the truth, the righteousness. How can I end up the entire curse on my mum whereas dad was the one who was suppose to take the blame? He was the one who make mum choose an unwillingness path. For year, I was misguided.

Mum was talking to dad on the line, more like—scolding. “It’s a good thing my son came and takes her away from you! How could you done this do her too?” she screamed on the phone, shaking the whole apartment. I sadly looked at her, and realize that there were patches of inflammation on her skin too. I took a deep sigh. Looks like I’m not the only dad’s victim. I wish that I could stands right up and hug my mum tightly and say, “Mum, I LOVE YOU!”