Worst. Experience. Ever.

All of my worst days are involved with my father. My father was a pedophile, and molested my little sister (I found this out about a few weeks ago). We had always been suspicious, but didn't want to start a trial against him because we had no evidence (my little sister said nothing happened, probably just repressed it all and was in despair and whatnot).

He was also a drunk, and a very violent man who would randomly hit you for no apparent reason. He also had asperger's syndrome, so he couldn't say "I love you" or show any sort of affection.

So, basically, my father was a 6'0", mostly emotionless, pedophile drunk abuse machine. I hated him, still do. But now I pity him more. ANYWAYS.

On the day of my Jr. High Graduation he was going to bring some food for the dance. But since he was an idiot, he decided to bike about 20 miles to my school. Without a helmet. With a cooler full of food. (He was a big biking enthusiast and shit.)

He crosses an intersection while it was red, gets blind sided by some truck going 40 mph. We get the news, my mom tells me and goes "You don't care, do you?"
"Nope."

She doesn't seem to care, either. Anyways, we go to the hospital, and I see him laying there. Bloody fucking mess, he literally looks like a zombie, blood and cuts everywhere, MASSIVE fucking gash on his head, pale as month old shit. And as he's struggling to even fucking breathe, he whispers "Son.. I.. I love you."

I burst into fucking tears. Not because I'm happy, but because it hit me like a ton of bricks that I was actually happy that my father went through so much pain, and because I wasn't able to say "I love you too, Dad."

Also, that was the first time he had ever said anything nice to me, let alone "I love you."

I'm doing pretty good now, though. Kicked him outta the house when I was 16 and haven't seen him since. (I'm 19 now.)