Their yells and screams are muffled through the walls.
The threats and profanity numb my mind.

As I sit in complete darkness,
I try to forget what's going on in the other room.
I focus on what I feel:
the weight of the layered blankets,
the hair rising on the back of my neck
from the chill of the fan,
the heat of my little brother cuddled next to me
as he drifts into a deep sleep.

I envy him.
His immaturity,
his vulnerability,
his pure mind
that has yet to branded with the bad memories
that the rest of us weren't protected from.

I find comfort in the dark.
The light only projects the things no one wants to see.
So I close my eyes,
and imagine what it would be like
to not be me.