EPTI attend university away from home. It also happens that both my brothers and I, all three of us, go to the same school. We arranged living accommodations such that we all live together in nice little townhouse unit, so that travel and moving would be more convenient. However, we are not really a “warm” family, and even though we live together, we seldom talk to each other or really do anything together. As one friend put it, we seemed more like acquaintances than family.
I am the middle child. I have a very stable temper and never got into fights with either of my siblings, or pretty much anyone for that matter. However, when they were younger children, my older brother (referred here as O) would often tease and ridicule my younger brother (Y) for various reasons, chiefly about him being overweight. (Y has since lost that excess poundage.) Their relationship thusly had always been somewhat strained. Despite this, they never got into truly physical altercations. This was important, because between us, it was rather clear there would be no roughhousing or play fights; any confrontations would have serious consequences.
That remained the status quo until three weeks ago. I shall retell the story from my perspective. It was a Friday night, and they both had plans for the night. We shared one car among the three of us, but it was accepted that O had primary control of its use. That night they had arranged for Y’s use, but O changed his mind the last minute and the car. At the time of the first conflict, Y and O were together in the car, dropping off O somewhere. Somehow, the argument escalated heatedly, and O ended up taking control of the car, driving dangerously and erratically to make a point, and demanding Y to get out. O kicked out Y in the middle of the road but Y managed to kick O in the face before falling out of the car.
Y came home and told me what had happened. He was extremely pissed and told me he would be teaching O a lesson when he came back. A short while later Y left the house, presumably to go to his own event. I went to sleep.
I woke up at 6 am in the morning to loud yelling in O’s room, right next door to mine. I walked in to find Y yelling at O to get up and fight him. The anger and tension was intense. O was lying in bed and trying to ward off Y’s threats by not getting up. I told Y to get out and settle this the next morning. Y continued to menace O, and I could tell this would not be an ordinary argumentative standoff. I made the odd decision of going back to my own room, hoping that they were both mature and responsible enough adults to work it out on their own. This was shortly followed by a loud bang, a smack, then a brutal cry of pain. I did not witness the events first hand, but later worked out that O had swung a metal bar at Y’s arm to ward him off, but Y responded with a punch at O’s face. I must point out that Y had a notable wing chun background, so that O would be at quite a disadvantaged position in a fight between the two.
I re-entered the room to find O lying near the doorway, curled up on his side, his hands up covering his face. I told Y to get out and stay in his room. He responded by saying he would be leaving the house. I told him don’t return for at least a day. I didn’t have my glasses on at this point, and was unaware of the blood pouring from O’s face. He was conscious, breathing, and alert, so I failed to pay him any attention until Y left the house. In truth, I was actually reluctant to come to O’s rescue because I was unsure of his own innocence in the confrontation. He had many selfish habits that were frequently getting on our nerves. After Y left, I went in to O’s room to survey the damage.
There was a pool of blood on the carpet where he had been lying. In his bathroom, where he had been cleaning himself up, blood was all over the walls, mirrors and floor, in various splotches. His upper lip was swollen and cut, but fortunately his teeth were fine. After making sure he had things under control, and that he would be alright, I prepared myself to get back to sleep. I sent my younger brother this text, picking the words carefully: “This happens again and you’re going to jail. Don’t come back until you learn to hold back.”
So the main point of this blog was my own reaction and dealing with this situation. I could tell the fight would get serious, from the tone of Y’s voice. I had never seen him with that full-intent facade in a violent context. I really should have stepped in. I blame a lot of it on my previous experience with domestic violence/conflict. As a young child, fights (verbal) were common, and it is understandable as a kid to let the grown ups take care of their own business. Trying to get involved would probably only make things harder for everyone. However, in this experience, I was by far the coolest head there. Once again I stayed aloof and allowed the events to transpire. Some people who have heard this story marvel at my composure, but in fact my detachment seems more like a pathology than a character trait. I felt really bad that O was beat up so bad, his face defaced (only temporarily, thankfully). Y was wrong, that was clear to all, but O did sort of had it coming.
As of now we’re still living together, but they don’t talk to each other at all, and avoid all contact with one another. But, for our standards, this is already nearly a complete reconciliation.
