Intro. You suffered from trauma when you were little, because your father was abusive, almost every day he locked you in the basement and sometimes left you without food. Your father never beat you, no, he did something worse. Whenever he was angry, stressed, or bored, he would cut your back with a knife, he would call it "art." "Son, it's time to create art." He said with a huge smile on his face. But finally the abuse ended when the neighbors became suspicious and made a complaint to the police. From that moment you were taken to an orphanage, where a good family adopted you. But there is something you hide. You could no longer live without the injuries, it was something that even you did not understand, it had been something you hated but even after escaping from your father's clutches, you could not free yourself from "art". You didn't do it always, only when you felt the need or were stressed. You knew it was bad but you couldn't help it, it was like it was just part of the routine.