The Internal Struggle

1

When you're a kid, life is pretty good. No rent, no taxes, no job. Just hang out with your mates in school all day every day with little to no homework and zero responsibilities. When you're a kid, you don't realise that life is preparing to give you the biggest kick up the arse that you'll ever experience.

I got my first hint of how cruel life could be when I was just ten years old.

My mum and dad had been divorced for 8 years. They used to live in Chile while they were still married.  Then my mum got pregnant and they decided to move back home to England so that I could be raised around family. One morning, my dad just rolled over in bed and said to my mum "I don't love you anymore" and left us. No fanfare, no debate, no discussion, he just disappeared. He moved to France and remarried but he still visited me every other week. Now, because of what I'm about to tell you, I'm going to refer to him as TwatFace.

You see, TwatFace had a temper problem. The smallest thing could make him angry. He was never abusive or violent, or at least I can't remember him being violent, I was only a decade old after all. But that just made what he did to me all the more shocking.
TwatFace was your stereotypical dad. Loved football, loved drinking and loved to try and mould his son into something that he wasn't. I was never into sports but that didn't stop him forcing me to play football with him every time he visited. He was also super unoriginal, he never strayed away from his air tight plan of going to Blackpool every visit, going swimming, playing football on the beach and maybe going to the cinema if he felt like it.

He wasn't very considerate of others. At one point, he got so annoyed at me that he unlocked my seatbelt, opened the passenger side door and pushed me out of the car while he kept on driving. I had to tuck and roll across the road out of the way of other oncoming vehicles. He didn't even stop to let me out, he kicked the door open as he kept driving forward. Do you see now why I call him TwatFace? Well you're gonna think that's a very tame name when I tell you what he did to me.

One week, he decided it would be a good idea to bring his new wife, Amy, to visit me at home for the first time. I had no interest in meeting her. In fact, I really didn't even want to see him. Normally I look forward to his visits because he buys me things and takes me places for free, but now I'd just grown to resent him for not actually bothering to find out what I care about.

Amy was French so I immediately disliked her. Her accent annoyed me, I found it so hard to understand anything she said and talking to her just felt like a chore. I couldn't get the thought out of my head that TwatFace decided that a brilliant way of spending a weekend with his first born son was to show off his new woman to the kid that he had with another woman. The only reason I can think of for why he did it was for his own benefit. Introducing me to Amy meant he seemed like a family man and that would raise her opinion of him. Once again, I didn't matter.

Fast forward 2 weeks. TwatFace arrives at our house around 11am. He walks in the front door with his usual grin and goes for a hug which I reluctantly give him. He follows me into the living room where I'd been playing on my PS2 and sits down. As it was nearly lunchtime, TwatFace asked me if I was hungry. As a ten year old, I'd began thinking that I should start doing things for myself, so I told him I was going to make myself a sandwich. I walked into the kitchen and opened the fridge to get the butter when I hear him stand up and follow me. He tells me to stop being silly and to let him make it for me. At this point, I'd seen how stressed my mum was getting trying to balance looking after me and maintaining a career all on her own, so I insisted on taking this first step towards independence.

He didn't like that.

I walked over to the counter and picked up a knife from the knife rack and picked up some bread from the bread bin. I went to cut the bread in half when he suddenly grabbed me by my wrist. I met his gaze and he was no longer smiling like he normally did. His face was stern, his eyes wide with anger.

"Max, I'll make you a sandwich" he said through gritted teeth. This was the first time in my life I'd ever experienced true fear. His grip on my wrist tightened and I dropped the knife on the counter. He swiftly picked it up and pushed me out of the way. I regained focus and realised what was happening and I was adamant about trying to be responsible for myself, so I put my hands on his arm.

And I'll never be able to forget what he did next.