When I was a teenager, my Mum was regularly violent towards me, but there's one occasion that stands out.
I was short and very skinny, she is 5"10, for context. I managed to escape her and ran upstairs into my bedroom. I sat with my back against the door, my feet against my bed (which was up against the wall), and I thought she wouldn't be able to get in. Wrong. After around 5 mins of her kicking the fuck out of the door whilst screaming at me, she got one of my Step Dad's tools and smashed a hole in the door, reached through, grabbed me by my hair and dragged me up, shoved the door open.
Came in, threw me on the floor, kicked me repeatedly. Then trashed my room. Everything was thrown at me, including my TV (pre flat screen era, so despite it being a small one it was heavy).
I really thought I was going to die.
My crime?
Dropping a towel on the floor as I was bringing my laundry down.
She had been drinking heavily that day (nothing new there) and doing coke (nothing new there either).