Trauma

His face, his eyes, his voice, his terror inducing footsteps. The way my knees, hands, and breath, would shake as he screamed and threatened violence. Whether the threat be pointed at him, her, or even myself. A beautiful or serene moment turned to the thought of sirens and flashing lights. She never stood up for herself in the way that I did. She provoked, I ran. She caused even more fear, violence, and threatening. I caused the neighbours to think that I was losing my mind. I don't remember there being a specific day when he left. I think he was just pushed away slowly because of brother. There are always going to be things I'm never going to forget. The way his face twisted in rage, the sound of his voice screaming through the door, because I locked him out. The pain of when he smashed his head against my own or when he had rammed his fist into my arm. He only gave me a bruise once, but he bestowed upon me trauma and memories to last an eternity. Sometimes I can see a hint of him in brother's face. Or I have an undeniable fear that he will take control again. But I try to convince myself that brother will stop him. I'm just trying to feel safe around brother, all the time. But I can still remember his face, his eyes, his screaming, the threat of him. I still remember my shaking, my panic attacks, and my attempts to stop him. But in the end it was brother, not the police that locked him up.