An Apology and Forgiveness
From the age of five I was bullied and beaten right up until my early twenties. All manner of boy and man would, could and did hit me at will but by far the worst of the bunch was a skinhead I’ll call Joe.
Joe had the works. Bad attitude, grudge, chip on his shoulder, the lot. But what Joe had most importantly was a knife. A gleaming, sharp, shiny life ender hidden in the coats of his jacket.
He didn’t need it at first. Why would he? My frightened, skinny frame and gentle nature was no match for his aggressive, muscular being and so when I dated his long gone ex-girlfriend then I became fair prey in his eyes.
His first ‘go around’ was to ambush me and slam me against a wall with a warning; “I’m stronger than you Morrell, you should know that.” But of course I already did. Me weak, him strong, no doubts.