When I was a four-year-old, my parents and I lived in a duplex, where my father would hit Mother and damage the walls, resulting in holes near a wooden desk she used for sewing. I recall pouring soap in my eyes at this age to stop them from arguing.
When we moved, my father would regularly come home and argue with Mother over anything he disliked. He broke the windows in our living room as well as the windows in our kitchen, he broke a "Leopard Statue", he broke our kitchen table, he broke plates, he threw Mother's computer and clothes into the garbage bin. He'd regularly pound on Mother's room door(Used for crafts). He'd yell at Mother as he was driving her to work.
My mother, as kind as she may be, used to grab me very forcefully(By the neck, as I was fidgeting with items; I would ache from it) and repeatedly tell me "Do you hear me!?! If people see you doing that, they will think you are men-tally retar-ded!" while shaking me and shaking the item near my eyes. She would tell me how embarrassing it is to have an autistic son who fidgets with items as a form of stimulation. Other times, she would hit me. When I said, "Please don't hit me!" once, she started laughing.
One day, Mother was asked by my father to write a check, which she did. However, he was angry because she was drying off after a shower. This led him to shove her onto the floor(She was naked) and kick her legs repeatedly, which I was present for and saw. He also broke her fingers and cut her knuckles, injured her knees and kicked her abdomen(Resulted in my other parent leaving for several days to avoid police officers; he was already leaving regularly all night, by this point).
