I slept with a knife under my pillow last night... I kept it close in case I needed to use it... I stay in my room with my doors locked every day.

I'm sitting in my room now.. it's 5 in the morning and all I hear are his angry mumblings of how he plans to kill us... how he calls us stupid birches that need to die by his hand. I'm clutching the knife tightly because I can hear him clearly no matter how low he thinks he's speaking. I can hear every detail as he paces in the kitchen beside my room.. back and forth, back and forth~ sometimes he'll come to my door and tap on it, pacing as if he's waiting... waiting for me to come out....

I can hear the clink of shattered glass~ my mom told me not to walk out of my room barefoot because his lamp broke.. the lamp he used to keep on every night~

She won't have to worry~ I am not going to leave my room..

She's brave.. she goes to confront him.. I can hear him yelling as she tries to reason with him, but he does not reason. He never did.

He's still pacing~ mumbling to himself angrily as if he's justified~

I told my mom I don't want him here... he's dangerous... but he's not even 18 yet, she'll argue every time.

Her youngest son, my baby brother~ the only brother I have that's still alive. By blood anyways~

That boy pacing and mumbling our death sentence is not my brother. I've lost both my brothers~

One was taken from me by a tragic accident~ this one? He was diagnosed with Schizophrenia and a bipolar disorder~ I don't think it's the only thing he has~

They keep telling us that the meds will help him, but I sit and listen with my clutched knife as his mumbles become more frequent, his pacing more erratic, and his temper flares more regular.

Mom tells me I have no patience. I do not. Not when my life is in danger. She doesn't see how he's like when she isn't home. She has no clue what goes on when she has to go to work.

It's come to the point that I no longer feel safe in my own home. My room has become my haven yet also my prison. I am trapped here waiting... waiting for that day he snaps. Waiting for that time that I need to take action.

Today I slept with a knife under my pillow, and I don't think it will be my last~