There is a point where the only escape is death or unconsciousness, When a violent episode occured, I strived for either one. Through outright definance or silence, I goaded his reactions, learned just how to enrage him and push as hard as I could.
I was knocked out on a regular basis, I have calcium deposits on the back of my head due to the beatings I took at that age. I also became good at finding places to take a beating in the house where the power was diminished - sometimes in a corner where the full swing of the foot or fist could not be done, under a table where he made more contact with the table than he did me. Of course this pissed him off more, why wouldnt he just end it?
I suspect he knew how far he could go without ending it, not sure even then you could disappear your son without explanation. But most of my body was broken at some point, bruises were always a constant, blurred vision was common, and the physical pain of moving about was tought to bear.
Ive read a lot of books and David Pelzer 'A child called it' resonates very strongly. Its a story of a child singled out by his mother for truly awful abuse while none of his siblings were inflicted the same regime. I was the eldest and only male in the family, my siblings were never touched and were treated like royalty. In David's case he ventually escaped through help from some amazing people, in my case I think I became too old and not what they wanted.
Instead of escaping violence, I then became a magnet for school bullies who made my life an utter misery on a daily basis. But thats another story.