I really hate myself.
its 1 am as i type this, while cooking, i thought back about my childhood, and im sad to say that all i remember is bad stuff, i remember my father shouting at me, and hitting me and i would cry, i would lie to get myself out of problems,and because i was the first child, my parents wanted to raise me properly, to have me as the best person possible, so they were strict, and i was the type of kid to not like studying, i never studied, i loved playing, and i just wanted fun, but because my parents were strict , i couldn't have fun, not much atleast, my father, i vividly remember when i was in grade 4 and i was playing with one of my friends in a library , it was late that day at school, me and him were just playing at school, just having fun looking at all the books there, i sat on my friends lap , yknow just kids playing, and i didn't think of it as much, but then i saw my father glare at me, and my whole life i knew that glare, the one that tells you that something bad is about to happen, my father was here to pick me up, and when we got in the car , he questioned me, what were you doing?, and i said "i was just playing with my friend", and he said "really?" , as he started driving he said, "tell me the truth, or i swear i will hit you until you scream stop" i didn't know what was wrong, i really didn't , but it was about how my father thought i liked a boy, you know, he thought i was a gay, and i didn't even know what being gay was. so he hit me on my left thigh, hard, and i was of course in pain, i tried to lie my way out, but i got hit then hit then hit then hit, and now i was crying, snot coming out and everything, i didn't know what to say, because i didn't know what i did wrong, he kept hitting my till my leg bruised , and he said "why didn't you tell me the truth?! you know if you told me you didn't know it was wrong i would've not hit you!" he said while shouting, i then said "i didn't know that it was wrong" then he stopped hitting me and didn't talk, then told me why it was wrong, and then i guess he apologized and he asked if i forgive him, and of course im just a child, every child has a clean heart a soft one at that. i said "its okay" even though i was still sad, i then came out the car hardly walking from how much pain was in my legs, then now i remember my mother, she was very ignorant, i remember many times, i would be hungry and i would come and ask her if she could make me some food, politely even, she wouldn't even look back at me and would say "no" because i guess her phone was too important,and when i asked again she shouted and then hit me and cussed me, i would cry myself to sleep, hungry, sad, and honestly, i dont think my childhood was great, and because of all of this bad energy coming from my parents, it was only natural that it was passed down to my 4 year old brother at the time, who was innocent, and who loved me, i always saw him as a absolute best friend of mine, the closest person to me, and eventually i started hitting him, out of anger and frustration, and he went from being my bestfriend to i guess, a punching bag, because i would hit him very frequently , he grew to hate me, and yeah, until today he does, i really hate myself, and even now, maybe 7 years later, i still cannot forgive myself for hitting my younger brother, my best friend.