Impulse

Brian sat quietly in the small white room. His fingers played with one another, locking, squeezing, popping. His leg bounced, making his keys jingle in his pocket, breaking the silence of the room. A woman looked towards him, a disapproving look on her face. Ignoring her, Brian scratched the back of his neck, rubbing the sweat into his black jeans.

His underarms were wet, staining his Grey v-neck, showing that the man was nervous. Glasses covered his cold, vacant brown eyes. Alcohol adorned his breath, releasing most of his anger. His knuckles were sore, bruised, and raw. He let out a slow breath, the sound of nails against polished wood echoed in his mind, causing his anger to flare.

His name was called, forcing him to look up into a pair of calm green eyes. Her face held a small, warm smile. Brian gave her a soft smile, standing up and following her down a hallway. The area smelled of coffee and baked goods. Dr. Sylvester was his doctor before he felt that he didn't therapy or medication before. She knew everything there was to know about Brian, and his IED.

Intermittent explosive disorder. A disorder characterized by impulsive acts of anger, as balanced with planned violent or antipathetic acts. The aggressive episodes may take the form of "spells" or "attacks," with symptoms beginning minutes to hours before the actual acting-out. Brian had been diagnosed at the age of 10 after his mother and father witnessed one of his spells.

He walked into her office, taking a seat across from her desk. She sat down, her fingers tapping the keyboard quickly, Brian looked out the window, his face blank as he watched the world behind sunglasses. The small tapping noises became slower, and slower until they stopped completely. Dr. Sylvester cleared her throat, Brian turned his head to look at her, a polite smile on her face.

"Its great to see you again, Brian" She said.

---
Emma sat beside Jane, chop sticks in hand as she picked at pieces of sushi. Emma's arm was wrapped in gauze, protecting her burned skin from the sun. Charlotte sat across from them, her eyes trained on the large, swollen cut on Emma's lip. The table was silent, the girls at loss for words. Emma sighed, looking towards the beach.

"So... Where's Brian? You two are usually together" Jane spoke, looking towards Emma.

"I actually don't know, he said he had something to do today" Emma shrugged.

"And he let you out of the house? That's a first" Charlotte spoke bitterly.

The table went silent, Emma's eyes casted downwards, her fingers began to fidget. Her hair brushing her shoulders. She remembered that only hours before she was on her knees, begging Brian to let her out for only a few hours. She remembered cleaning, cooking, and cleaning once more when Brian pushed his plate of food to the floor.

"So... Matt told me that you and Brian get to keep Amelia this weekend?" Jane asked.

"Yeah, we do. I'm really excited" Emma answered, nodding.

Emma sighed, her phone vibrating next to her as the large screen lit up, telling her that her time out was done. She grabbed the device, touching the screen before placing it inside her purse. She looked at the two girls and smiled softly at them, standing up slowly.

"Leaving already?" Charlotte asked.

"Y-yeah, me and Brian have dinner planned tonight" She lied, embracing Jane.

"Alright, we'll see you soon" Jane said as Emma hugged Charlotte.

Emma smiled at the two girls, waving at them before she walked through the restaurant. Once outside, she walked over to her car, leaning against the vehicle, sighing in the throbbing pain in her ankle. She scratched the back of her head, opening up the door, examining the bruises on her arms, and the white bandage around her forearm.

Getting into the car, Emma slammed the door shut, staring at Jane and Charlotte as they talked and laughed with one another. Emma was jealous of them, their relationships. Their husbands loved them, they'd do anything for them, and Emma knew that Zack or Matt wouldn't lay a hand on either of the women. On any woman. Although Charlotte never spoke it, she knew exactly what she wanted to say.

Emma started the car, heart pounding as she pulled from her parking space. She was afraid of what was going to happen when she got home, she could only hope that whatever Brian did today went well. She knew that if something bad happened, or if Brian was angry, he was going to take it out on her. The fact made her palms sweat, and her throat tighten.

Amelia. She wondered how it was going to go when they finally had the chance to see their daughter. Emma was worried that something was going to go wrong, that Brian was going to go back to his old ways. The thought of Brian hitting Amelia again saddened her. She could only hope that Brian was able to control himself that night.

She pulled into her parking spot, pulling down the small mirror she stared. The small cut on the bridge of her nose was covered up by foundation, as were the rest of bruises on her face. The cut on her lip was red, swollen and painful. Pushing the mirror back into place, she sighed, seeing Brian's car parked beside her. She ran her fingers through her hair, shaking her head.

It needed to stop. The abuse, the control. She knew that he didn't love her, she knew that one day things were going to go too far. She needed to get away from Brian until he was willing to get help. She knew that he wasn't going to get help until he knew that Emma was serious about leaving him. She was aware of what she had to do, but she of all people knew that it wasn't that simple.

Getting out of the car, Emma slammed the door shut behind her, walking up to the door. Grabbing the knob, she twisted her wrist, opening the door, walking inside the house. Stepping out of her flats she shut the door, met by silence. Brian's shoes sat next to her feet, telling her that he was indeed home.

"Brian?" She called, getting no response.

Walking further into the house, she found herself in the kitchen, Brian's wallet and keys sat on the island. Sunglasses sat next to the sink, Emma picked them up, chewing the inside of her cheek. She spotted three pill bottles on the counter. Reaching for them, she read the label, furrowing her eyebrows as she muttered Brian's name, she jumped and dropped the bottle when she felt a strong hand grip her shoulder.

"What do you think you're doing?"