Medication.

I stared at my dad wide eyes, scared, this was the first time I’d seen him since he left.

He was a bad father.

He used to scream, shout and hit my mum, used to make her cry herself to sleep and hide from her friends.

When I was old enough to speak out, he treated me just the same.

I have to see a councillor 3 times a week because of him.

I have to fill myself with pills because of him.

"People like you are the reason why people like me need medication."

Then I left his life.