I wonder when I started to become afraid of my brother.
At the very least, it wasn't like that at the beginning.
When I first met him, brother was hitting my father.
I loved my father.
Although he was useless in many aspects, I knew that he loved me with all of his heart.
Even if it wasn't like that, as a five year old child, he was a father that I loved without a doubt.
My brother punched that kind of father.
Appearing all of a sudden, and then punching my father.
I didn't understand the conversation at that time.
Even though I now understand that my brother had a lot of hardships before he finally met with father,
I also knew he made a fool of my father and got into a fight with him.
These things were unrelated to me at that time.
My brother hit my father.
When I saw him on top of father pummeling him,
I thought that my father would be killed.