Did I lose the “Parental Lottery”? #5: The Limit
I was only 15 years old when the police riot squad finally raided our house. They held heavy shields, dragging my drug-crazed Yakuza father away in handcuffs.
I thought the nightmare was finally over. I thought Mom could finally come home.
But the brutal reality of the underworld broke me.
Unbelievably, my father was released and returned home that very same day. Out of his mind with rage, he stormed into our house, screaming, “Are you the one who snitched on me?!” and raised his hand against my grandmother.
I was paralyzed with fear. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t protect her.
That was the exact day our limits were completely shattered. The next day, with trembling hands, I grabbed a kitchen knife…
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Why am I sharing this raw truth now? Because I am writing this autobiography to reclaim the pieces of myself that I lost on that very day.
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