We were a few kids on an open balcony on the first floor of a building. I was around 6 years old at the time. We had locked ourselves on the balcony to escape from a large cat, about the size of a puma, that had been chasing us. The balcony wasn't very high, so it was possible to climb up to it from the outside using boxes or other objects.

We thought we were safe on the balcony, so we started looking around. There was a small fridge there, and when we opened it, we were amazed to see that it was filled with chocolate figurines. One of the kids, who was standing next to me, took a figurine that looked like a woman and began to eat it. When he reached the center of the chocolate, he found a note that said "Happy birthday son! - mom". He became very angry and shouted: "How dare she, after what she has done!".

Curious, I also took one of the figurines, which looked like a little girl. When I opened it, I found a note inside that said: "Happy birthday! - it's your father, I'm here". I was terrified and looked around, thinking that this couldn't be true because my father was dead. But when my eyes met the glass of the balcony door, I froze. It really was him, getting closer and closer. We all froze in fear, and then, once we came back to reality, we quickly climbed out of the balcony and started running as fast as we could.

After a while, we all split up and tried to hide wherever we could. I and one of the boys from the group found an open door to one of the houses nearby and went inside. It was a small room with a big stove near the wall that went up to the ceiling. Between the stove and the ceiling, there was a gap where I could fit, near a small window that looked out onto the door.

I saw my father pass by the door and felt relieved that we had escaped, but soon he came back and opened the door. When he stepped inside and saw me on the stove, I started screaming with all my might "Leave us alone, I don't want to see you!". He grabbed the boy who was with me and tried to pull him out of the house. Outside the window, I saw a cop sitting at a table on the street below. I started punching the window, screaming, until the cop noticed me. He approached the house, but my father went outside, locking the door with an outside latch, and approached the cop to assure him that everything was okay.

As they started to move away from the house, I gathered all my strength and started screaming one last time, punching the window. I punched the window so hard that it shattered, some of the glass pieces made cuts on my tongue on their way down, as the glass was close to my face. Even though my tongue was bleeding, I continued to scream and punch the pieces of glass left hanging on the window until the cop heard me and turned around. As soon as he did, I stuck my head out the window and shouted "He's abusing me!".

I knew I was lying. That wasn't the right word for what was happening, but at least this way I wouldn't have to see him again. And so, the cop arrested my father and took him away from me.