It took months for me to get used to the idea of going to other rooms, of being able to go outside, walk around, and return to where I started. The expectation of a wall popping up and stopping me, trapping me, continues to linger. I still expect him to sneak into my space, even though I watched him die. Death doesn’t erase fear or memories. The monsters that live inside us are much harder to get rid of. I’m getting better at battling them, though.