I remember the fear. It was unlike anything I had ever felt. It shook my core, made my heart beat out of my chest, and made me pray. The constant banging on the door, the hiding, the screaming, was becoming all too much. The dreaded walk home was the worst because you never knew what to expect. I crossed my fingers I wouldn't have to encounter the beast. I wanted to slip away into the darkness of my room because nowadays it was my only comfort. Behind those closed doors more went on then you could imagine. Slapping, screaming, and fighting was the daily routine. We were just kids. We didn't know any better than to fight back because our parents had never taught us better. Who's decision was it to make our lives miserable? Could anybody stop it? Why was this happening to us? Questions we often ask ourselves as we look back at our weak, pathetic selves shaking in fear. We held in our tears because if we weren't who would be the strong one for our sensitive sibling. We had to defend ourselves in whatever way we could. We had to say some cruel things we didn't mean, but we didn't know how else to get them to leave us alone because we were scared. Fear drove our decisions. Walking in our dimly lit neighborhood thinking about how we got here and how good it was back then. It seemed that just a day ago mom and dad were happy once again, but that was only a dream on another side of a forever.
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