Fuckers all of them.

I didn't think i'd be so calm when my father had his hands wrapped around my throat. I think he was surprised that I fought back. Shocker innit.

Guess it becomes a reflex when you spend your childhood watching your mother having the shit kicked out of her by the man she loves. I don't know what it is but apparently everyone thinks they've got the right to put their hands on me. This is very untrue. I'll give just as good as I get.

The sense of calm that I've got washing over me might have something to do with the gin I just downed.

She reckons I had it coming & now need to "go for a walk & calm down" Like fuck I am.
Trust man, broken in seconds.