It was a hot summer day. Gorgeous sunshine, with all of the neighbourhood children playing on the street. There was a game of ball hockey in the cul de sac, and countless children were riding their tiny little bikes as fast as their tiny little legs could pedal them. All of them, that is, except one. One ten-year-old was inside the small white house, in the kitchen. With a final smack and helpless cry, the small cub fell to the floor. He skittered on the hardwood for a second before scampering away up the stairs.

"And stay up there until I say so!" barked the menacing, booming voice from behind him. The terrified child sprinted into his room and slammed the door behind him. He jumped onto his bed, and grabbed a well-loved teddy bear from beside his pillow. He dug his face into the bear and started to cry.

The small boy was a German Shepard, with messy black hair atop his head and big, beautiful green eyes. Or, at least that is what his mother said. He shuddered as he heard the thunderous footsteps clomp their way up the stairs. The young cub didn't even know what he did wrong in the first place. All he remembered was the big, burly man yell profanity, then suddenly grab him by the belt and drag him into the kitchen. And now, he was coming back for more. He pounded on the door, then flung it open. The cub buried his head further into his bear, still feeling the impression of the man's many blows on his rump.

"Why did you slam the door?" asked the massive dog, in a disturbingly emotionless tone. The young cub didn't respond. "What have I told you about slamming doors?" He strolled over to the bed. He paused, then suddenly grabbed the arm of the cub's bear.

"Give it to me."

"No..."

"Give it to me!"

"NO!" the cub screamed. He wasn't letting go of that bear without a fight. It was his first memory. He had that bear his entire life. It was his best friend. But the massive German Shepard looming over him didn't seem to care.

"Give it to me or I'll make you give it to me!"

The cub bit the man's hand. The man swore at the top of his lungs, and lashed out. He struck the young cub in the side of the face with the back of his hand, sending him toppling over the edge of the bed with a scream. The big dog grabbed the dropped teddy and stormed out of the room. As he went through the doorframe, the young cub peeked around the edge of his bed. He watched as his little teddy became smaller with every step, then vanishing as the door was slammed closed behind him.

"...and that's the last time I ever saw him." I said, choking back tears. How pathetic. I was crying over a teddy bear. And that's exactly what he told me later that night, too. "All the time, he was like this. Angry at the slightest things. And when I cried, he'd yell at me for crying. If I didn't stop, he'd punish me again! It happened every day! It was just so.... so..." I trailed off.

"So, this 'man'... he's your father?" asked Cassandra. My heart sank.

"Some 'father' he was." I straitened up and breathed. "I never did call him 'dad.' Once I was old enough to start to think for myself, I made the decision that he did not deserve the title of 'father.' At first people just thought it was teenage angst, but it continues even to this day." I looked to Cassandra, and gently squeezed her hand.

"I'm... I'm so sorry David. I had no idea it was this bad." Cassandra scooted over closer to me, then suddenly gave me a big hug. I didn't react or hug her back. "Look... if you don't want to talk about it, maybe I should just-"

"No, no." I said. What the hell is wrong with me? Five minutes ago, I dreaded the day I'd have to explain this shit, but now something in me wants me to tell her everything. "You should know. I need to tell you."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. Yes I am sure." I put an arm around her, tugging her close. I could feel the warmth of her fur through her shirt. It made my heart flutter. This was the right thing to do.

"If you say so. If that is the case, could you just please answer my first question? Where did you get that scar?"

The courthouse was an old brick building, with massive pillars supporting the roof above it. It was the biggest building in town. Made when the town was first created in 1911, it was also the oldest building. Like any court, there was a maze of rooms. Not only the courtrooms, but the jury deliberation rooms, judge's offices, and several other private rooms. It was inside one of these private rooms where we yet again meet the German Shepard pup. At fifteen years old he was barely out of childhood, but he looked much older. He wore what anyone his age would wear to family court; white button-up shirt, black dress pants, and a tie. Dark green in colour, to accent his eyes. Not that you could see them, anyways. His hair was now long, and his bangs were swept over his forehead and over his eyes. His body was now tall and lanky.

He sat there, his head buried in his arms on the table, waiting. Mr. Crawle - a tabby cat who was the lawyer for his mother - had left him with some magazines. Even though the magazines Mr. Crawle gave him were his favourites, the young German Shepard couldn't read them. The knot in his stomach and his anxiety threatened to explode. The waiting, the pressure, it was too much. He had given written testimony to be read in court - he couldn't dare to face his father's gaze of death or his brutish lawyer's accusations and attacks on his reputation. He had to appear briefly to confirm that yes, he indeed wrote that. He now awaited the verdict.

The door opened. The pup jumped from his chair. In the doorway was the judge. An intimidating black gorilla, with half-moon spectacles and graying hairs around his mouth and chin. The cub uneasily sat back down. The judge walked over to him, and took a seat right beside him.

"This isn't standard procedure son," began the judge in his slow, molasses-like voice, "But I need to do this for my own sake."

The cub gave no response. The judge sighed.

"Usually in divorce cases, we give something called 'visitation rights' to the parent who does not have primary custody. This was explained to you, correct?"

The cub nodded.

"Well... not in this case. James - your father - he did not make a good impression on me. But that isn't unheard of. Anger against your former partner is understandable. But what he said about you..."

The cub looked up to the judge with teary eyes. The judge shifted uncomfortably in his chair.

"...well I won't go into details, but it was frankly appalling. After your testimony his attitude changed from defensive of his children to vile hatred that his son didn't say what he wanted him to say. Coupled with your testimony, it made the choice clear. I think you'll be content my verdict. Your father has no visitation rights whatsoever."

"Th... thank you sir..." said the cub, tears welling up. He buried his face in his arms again. He felt a big hand on his shoulder.

"But I am still concerned about you. James didn't take well to it. At all. Security got involved. I can't do anything legally. The case is over, my hands are tied." The gorilla reached into his pocket and produced a small business card. "But if he does anything to you, tries to come after you or threaten you, this is my number." The cub looked at the card wide-eyed, and took it from the judge's hand as if it were a priceless crown jewel. "And Jack, this never happened, okay?"

"Okay."

"Wait... your name was Jack?" Cassandra cocked her head.

"Yes." I said. "Jack Schafer. Schafer as a name my ancestors carried with them when they first landed in Newfoundland before moving to Ontario. It was tough to just wipe away such a legacy like that, but having my father's last name was just too painful. And dangerous. I changed it so that he couldn't track me down."

"Did he ever find you?"

"Yes. Yes he did. And that's how I got this." I tapped the scar on my back.

Two days after the verdict, Jack was living in his uncle's house. It was an uncle on James's side, but Jack trusted him. He actually trusted most of James's family. When they heard and saw what James did in the courtroom, they were quick to side with Jack and his mother. Besides, Uncle Jerry was Jack's favourite uncle. He was always so cheerful and funny. And he had cable TV. It was raining and gloomy outside, with a thunderstorm fast approaching. Jack was sitting snugly on the couch, wrapped up in a blanket. All around him were boxes of his belongings. Some had gotten mysteriously damaged before he picked them up. Uncle Tom - a biker from his mother's side of the family - had to escort him to pick up his things from his old home.

The apartment was quite a different world from the suburbia Jack was used to. Seeing hundreds of faces living mere meters from each other while not knowing one another seemed impossible to him. On his street, he knew every face and name. They might not have known what was going, but if the need arose Jack would not have hesitated to call or simply flee to them. Years later, he also realized that it also kept his father in check; he couldn't be too loud or they would hear it. But in this concrete tower, it seemed like nobody cared.

There was a knock on the door. Jack turned off the TV and took off his blanket. He wore nothing but a pair of loose pajama pants. He walked over to the door. He opened it a crack. What happened next happened so fast that Jack had no idea what happened until it was over. There was a large crash and the door flung open. The next thing he knew, he was pinned against the wall. He was held by his neck, with large meaty finger wrapped around either side. He grabbed at the arms connected to the choking hands, but it did little to help. He couldn't breathe. He gasped for air, eyes wide with fear, but all he could do was stare at his assailant.

A big, looming dog of some sort. This time the fur around his muzzle was unkept, and he reeked of alcohol. A flash of lighting lit up the room for a brief second, and Jack recognized the enraged face of his father.

"You little shit." he muttered as he choked the helpless teen. "I worked my ass off for your whole damn life. And how do you thank me?" He adjusted him grip, and this time he lifted Jack into the air by his neck and pinned him against the wall again, his feet dangling off of the ground. "YOU STAB ME IN THE FUCKING BACK!" Jack's vision was closing in around him. The thunder and lightning began to clash much more frequently. He felt himself getting weak. He stopped struggling.

Suddenly the hands around his neck released him, and he dropped to the ground. Jack gasped for air, his sobs only making it more difficult to get any air back into his lungs.

"My lawyer and that fucking judge has costed me a fortune!" He kicked Jack in the stomach. Jack didn't even have enough air to cry out as he was winded a second time. "I'm about to teach you some respect you little bastard." He staggered off towards the kitchen. He ripped open a closet, and tore out anything that was in his way.

Jack tried to muster the strength to stand up. With shaky arms, he lifted himself up from the floor, only to suddenly have his throat choked again. This time, by a bundle of extension cords. He grabbed for the choking restraint as he was lifted by his neck. He was dragged across the kitchen, before thrown onto the table. The cords dropped from his neck, then his chest was roughly slammed onto the table. Jack bit his tongue from the violent crash. James held Jack in place by placing his hands on the back of his neck and pinning him down onto the table. Another bolt of lightning illuminated the room. He could see the terrifying silhouette of James with the electrical cord raised above his head like a whip. Jack was powerless. He clenched his teeth through gasps and sobs in preparation for the blow.

I couldn't go any further. I broke down again. This time, I leaned into Cassandra. I could feel it happening. It felt too real. My body convulsed with every remembered strike. I hadn't talked about it since the police report a decade ago, but it felt as fresh as if my back was still bloody.

"I... I'm sorry." I was finally able to say. "I think I'll just skip this part. You don't want to hear it." Cassandra took her hand, and gently brushed it from the top of my head to my cheek.

"No, I don't want to hear it." Said Cassandra. It seems as if she had finally dropped the smart-ass comments. In fact, her voice was rather comforting now. "But I need to hear it, David. I need to hear it so I can understand this. And it seems like you need to tell it, too." She leaned her head against mine. "It's okay David, I'm right here." I closed my eyes, and went back to the painful memory.

The blow was more painful than he could have ever imagined. He tried to cry out but he could only squeak. His body was too weak. And his decision not to wear a shirt that night had cost him dearly. The blows came at a regular rhythm, which a crack and a smack as it dug into his flesh. Soon he could feel himself bleeding. One after another, they came without mercy. He could do nothing but watch the shadow of it on the wall. Soon the thunder became indistinguishable from the cracks of the extension cord. He soon lost all energy to react. He couldn't scream. All he could do was feel the pain. Over and over. It was so fast he barely had time to breathe between the blows. It went on for what seemed like an eternity. The pain was too much. He began to lose his vision. His body started to become numb. For a brief moment, the pain became so distant.

Then, it stopped. He could hear yelling. He felt something smash onto the table beside him. He heard glass shattering, them loud thudding footsteps. Somebody grabbed his shoulder, and was shaking it. He could hear a voice, but it was mumbled and distant. But the pain had stopped. Somewhat. He could feel his back burning, but no new pain was being created. The voice began shouting now, and his entire world was illuminated with bright yellow light. But Jack couldn't fight it anymore. He let himself go.