What are you looking for?
Featured Topics
Select a topic to start reading.
If you are in crisis and need immediate help, please call 1-800-273-8255 (NSPL) or text HOME to 741741 (Crisis Text Line). More resources.
“I want to be a hero” is the first thing about writing this. I recently watched MHA or BNHA (My Hero Academia or Boku No Hero Academia) and most recent episode I watched was the main villain, Shirigaki Tomura of the series and his origin, episode 115. If you don’t know the story of this series by now, is that in this world of MHA, 80% of people have “Quirks” or super powers and get it at a certain age due to a physical mutation in their genes, changing their appearance even and has a limit and can be honed by practicing it like a muscle. And can be anything, to being a lizard man and can what a lizard can or develop the ability to touch things and make it weightless and cancel the effect but over using your power can make you nauseous and etc. So Shirigaki Tomura is the heir/next leader of Villain League and the episode of 115 revealed his past and his suffering.
He (Tomura) has a normal life but his family had one rule, no speaking of heroes (it’s an anime where there superpowers and there heroes and villains alright?). Because otherwise he would get abused by his father (sort of mildly who was made to sit in the backyard to reflect his actions and got smacked at the face a bit and that’s about it.) who was placed in an orphanage because his own mother was a hero. And yes this was a job and a profession in this anime’s society where you can end up dying. However, despite Tomura’s father’s mother leaving him at an orphanage and containing a sorry letter after her passing and a photo of him and her smiling (Tomura’s dad as a kid and Tomura’s grand mother or Tomura’s dad’s mother) sitting in a park together, smiling, he resented his mother being a hero and who abandoned him to save other’s lives. Which caused the abusing of Tomura and developing him to hate everything and destroying and killing his whole family members with his quirk:Decay, which decays anything he touches, not limited to buildings, cars, the ground and etc to crumble to dust and nothingness. But not before his own dad hitting his head with a metal pipe and dying in the process.
That whole episode and scene, made me remember all of my abuse and my anger towards my own father. As I write down the few of many things he has done to me, to my younger brother and mother, I recommend that anyone who reads this to prepare for the worse to come as anyone who will read down below, is just the tip of the iceberg and is not for the faint of heart.
When I was very young, the earliest memory of my dad was that I remember him beating me up for doing a mistake a did, I couldn’t remember and I can remember that since I was 4. Living with him was really living in hell. He was such a prideful man that even if you told him that he is wrong, clearly wrong and fundamentally and morally wrong, he would go out of his way and doesn’t matter how many people he would be an inconvenience too until he what he said and does was RIGHT. My parents would often have screaming contests and later on to scream at us for his failings. He would eve throw things at me and my brother such as plates, shattering them by the wall behind us and have those shattered shards hit our bodies, to have our mother pull it out and band aid us up and wasn’t that deep. But the worst part he did to me was that he made and turn me into his slave. I had no rights, forced to do everything for him such as sweeping, mopping, cleaning the clothes, ironing them, cooking, washing dishes, cleaning the bathroom and more. I would always end up tired and still have homework to do at 10pm at night and I was just 6. And I had to do it in a specific and certain way he would want me to do it, so the first times, I did wrong and didn’t know how I would do at the first time, I would be beaten up and kicked literally till I was in tears and shouting at me on how useless I was and how I was bad at it. If you guys are reading and wondering where’s my mother, she was out abroad, working hard for the house she worked for. As for my father, did nothing but loathe majority of his life nothing productive and getting mad at me, beating me up just to make himself better. He couldn’t hold a job because of his anger and pride issues and all I had to do was to endure all of his physical, mental abuse and his emotional manipulation to look sad and sorry to gain the empathy of others was scary. I still remember clear as day when I was 7 and my mom was to feel pregnant and still continued working abroad, I had to finished doing all of my chores that night, my dad wanted me to cook something big for him, so he made me cook about 3 different types of food, have rice, plates, glass and water on a small blue tray. And note, I was tired and still had to look out after my dead beat dad and he wanted me to bring it to him upstairs to his room because he was watching TV. So when I grabbed the tray, it was heavy and my tired arms from doing chores made it heavier. So a plate of the food fell and the glass, shattering and making the mess on the floor. Unfortunately for me, my dad heard it loud as day, went down and was furious at me. So he got the tray off my hands, brought up to his room, went back down and told me to eat the food off the floor. It would be wasteful and a wasted effort for me to clean it up again. So I did and when I was eating off the floor, my dad kicked me at the stomach hard repeatedly, causing me to vomit what I just ate off the floor and kicked me even harder for making more of the mess and I knew in my head that he would stop once I ate all the spilled food up. So I did but his kicks were so painful to my stomach that made me hurl again and it repeated over and over and even grabbed the back of my head and pushed it where the shards of glasses of the glass were there was bits of food there as well and slammed my head towards the glass and I bled. And urged me to hurry up unless I wanted to make more of a mess of the floor. It was a nothing more than miracle that I was still alive and I did it. My stomach was in distress of eating food I spilled to the floor and re eating it after hurling it out, my head bled from the small shards of glass and later on, once my dad was done eating, I had to wash those plates and set aside the leftover food for tom to be eaten again and the cherry on top of that horrible night, I had to sleep on the cold floor instead of the bed by my dad otherwise he would beat me up again so J did. I was tightly hugging and cuddling my teddy bear, terrified of my father, silently crying myself to sleep. As I got older, it was less but the intensity was the same. It evolved from beating up, to physically being bled to the point where I nearly killed by my own father twice. Once when I was 8 and 10. Things didn’t stop there and kept on escalating until it arrived at death threats. I wasn’t only affected by this. My mom and brother was greatly affect as well.
For my brother, our cat knocked off my father’s reading glasses off the table and broke the handle part so he can’t use it and it wasn’t his expensive looking ones, it was the really cheap kind and when my dad confronted by him and I remember his exact words because I was within the same room when he confronted my brother and this as if this was yesterday; “How would you feel if I accidentally broke your legs?” He said these exact words to a 10 year old boy, my brother nonetheless. Later that night, my brother cried so hard and couldn’t sleep at all, he cried till he wet his bed so I had to clean it up and he had to shower at 4am in the morning during the weekday when we had classes. When we was younger at 7 when we couldn’t find a maid to buy medicine for his cough and fever, my dad wanted to give my brother a pill to subsided his illness. However he was ONLY 7 so he doesn’t know how to even swallow a pill with water and let alone the amount of vitamins and other.. what not in the medicine have to heal a 7 year old boy, let alone an adult body. So what my did was that he punched my brother’s gut until he actually swallowed it and left him crying until he told my mom later what happened. However this was what my mom did whenever he abused any one of us, she told us that she has faith that my father could change his ways and finally say sorry to all of us. But no change came, and my mom was a faithful and God fearing woman, meaning she took her faith of Christianity seriously. Despite she was too also abused in the more mental and emotional sense than physical. This cycle of fearing for my life, suffering, trauma lasted. Not accounting my trauma in school, friends and my love life where I got bullied, molested by a gay HS while sleeping in a school bus on the way home when I was 10, betrayed by friends and made a fool out of the crushes I liked because I was fat and secretly liking them was creepy and wanted more a physically stronger gym fit type of body that gave me depression and gave me many times to suicide out of everything I have endured so far. Until not more than 3 years ago where I told and convince my mom that we can’t keep living like this and so with the help of my brother, we left my dumbass dad and settled a new life in a new place without him. That was when I tasted real freedom and started thinking what I wanted to do for once.
Now I’m 23 as I write this anonymously. But I still have the title and why I placed my trauma here.. is because I wonder if I can be a hero to others despite what I have suffered. I want to make others smile, not feeling hopeless. I want to protect others so they won’t go through what they experienced. Many people n the younger generation are already experiencing and trying to suicide already. I want to save others because no one should ever experience even a shard of my suffering be passed on to them. This is my suffering and mine alone. I have found the purpose of why I have suffered. But there is one thing that I fear..
Will I be a hero? Or will I succumb to my anger, trauma and my become a villain like Shirigaki Tomura and reform the world by destroying it for the ways the world has been against me and denying me what I wanted to feel and experience unlike what everyone else has able to?
It’s hard to write with both side of my perspectives and myself. I want to protect what is important and dear to me and yet, I want to destroy anything and everything that pose a threat to me. Maybe in the end, I maybe be a hero. Or maybe be a villain.
I hope that humanity can move on from wars and to helping each other towards progression and unity. Or will we fall too low that we can’t dig ourselves out that we we will fall to extinction? At the end.. we are only human and so am I. I’ll smile and be myself to very end despite what happened to me. Hehe.. I’m such a complicated person to even talk of good and bad.
- GTA (pen name)
If you see a comment that is unsupportive or unfriendly, please report it using the flag button.
More Posts
-
my future VS my family
I'm a 17 year old girl who has so many dreams and goals but sometimes i feel like i have no one. I have tried communicating to my family that I am struggling me...
-
Ive always felt weird around boys.. why tho?
I'm a girl first of all. In kindergarten to 3rd grade I had friends that were boys and I guess I was okay with being around them in general. I might have fe...