Primal terror pushed the air out of my lungs and held me prisoner. 

My brother was up there and I needed his help. I desperately needed his help. Which was the only reason I stood here now staring up at the narrow staircase. 

    And so, even though I knew it was futile, I forced myself to take one step. Then another. I kept my eyes trained on the single scuffed door at the top, ignoring the unattended blood stains I knew marred the carpeted steps.

    I raised a fist to knock on the door but it hovered hesitantly in mid air. I did not want to do this. But my brother was in there and I needed his help.

    My knuckles barely brushed the wood. Fuzzy blotches impeded my vision. The door swung inward.

    “What do you want?” my brother growled. His dark eyes gleamed with hatred as he looked down on me. He kind of smelled, like stale chinese food and BO. I tried to breathe shallowly.

    “I need your help,” I choked out. I swallowed the bile gathering in my throat and tried again. “I need your help with–”

    He sneered and my words petered off. 

    “You need my help?” His fingers combed back his overgrown oily hair. “But surely this can’t be right. The perfect benevolent Gabriel could never stoop so low as to require my help.” His eyes and mouth twisted in mock surprise. “Oh that’s right. You’re a spineless, good-for-nothing, worthless son of a b*tch,” he hissed with malice. A nasty grin split his face and he leaned back in preemptive satisfaction. “Just like your dear mother. What a raging hoa–”

    I lept at him, hurt and rage boiling up over my bountiful fear. 

A fist swung and nailed me in the eye. Then the nose. He shoved me hard and I tripped over one of his discarded shoes to fall on my butt. I gazed up at his towering form, half pleading half petrified, feeling like trapped prey. His foot rammed into my stomach and instinctively I curled into a ball. He kicked me again and again. I rolled down the stairs. 

The door had slammed shut before I’d even reached the bottom. Broken sobs flooded from me as I lay there exhibiting the devastating wreck my brother had turned me into.

But there was no one else I could ask. We lived alone. 

I quelled my tears, made a quick trip to the bathroom, and returned to the site of many atrocities. Throbbing purple had begun to spread along my nose and around my eye. Obscenities rose to my lips as I glowered up at my brother’s door, the gate to his hellish soul. My fear had all but disappeared. Unbridled fury propelled my determined steps. 

My fist pounded on his door. I hesitated a single chilling second then flug it wide open and stormed inside. My brother swiveled around in his chair, this time genuine surprise engaging his unshaven face. 

“You are the spineless, good-for-nothing, worthless son of a b*tch.” I was completely in the moment, the freedom of newfound strength and retribution lifting me up. “You are the screw up, the 20 something year old high school dropout with a dismal future ahead. And it’s your fault––not mine, not anybody else’s. Deal with your sh*t. Get your life together. Stop taking your misery out on me.” 

I wanted to say more but he had risen and was slowly pacing towards me, a disturbing expression on his face. Before I could do anything he had tackled me and was attempting to throw me out on my ass again. 

Instead I grabbed his raised hand and pinned it behind his back. A fierce struggle ensued, gradually moving us until we were poised on the edge of the staircase. Before he could make a move, I pushed him hard.

And watched my brother tumble down the stairs, appendages flailing. 

At the bottom he did not move.

I stood transfixed for a moment by his fallen form, the curve of his spine outlined through a ratty t-shirt as he faced the wall. Slowly I descended and knelt beside him. Unseen from above, he was trembling. 

“Daniel…” He didn’t answer. Hesitantly I placed a hand on his shoulder. When he didn’t shake it off I helped pull him up. 

He slumped into my arms and sobbed brokenly, displaying the devastating wreck he had turned himself into.