He barged into the toilet while I was still showering, dragged me out and started hitting me. My parents rushed to the kitchen after hearing my hysterical screaming but did nothing after they arrived at the scene. So I lay there, fighting the losing battle, trying to get in a punch whenever I could. When he was finallh done brutalizing me, he just left and I began to sob uncontrollably. Then I woke up. This is the first time that I woke up crying.

They say that dreams hold a subconscious meaning of the deeper soul. Why was the object of my terror my brother and why did my parents come and just stand by?

But nonetheless, God has said to love people, not for what they say or do, but for who they are. And we love because he first loved us. Loving my brother is probably the greatest challenge I will face in life, but through it all I know I'll never go through it alone.