Easy As Falling Off A Bike.
by Angharad.
part 33.

I reflected on the beating my father had given me, it was one of many such reflections. I hadn't hit anyone since primary school, when Mary Smith took the doll I was playing with, so I decked her. In the jungle that was primary school it seemed much more acceptable besides she got her own back after I pulled the wheels off her pram, she whacked me over the head with a toy guitar. I think I still have a small scar somewhere near my crown.