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My Brother

When I was nine years old my oldest brother got killed by his best friend. They were playing with my brother’s best friend’s dad’s gun. My brother got shot in the chest and died on the way to the hospital. I was very very close to my brother, I never got to say goodbye to him. A month after his death I started to see my brother everywhere I went, crazy at the age of nine. I started seeing my brother awake and asleep but after a while I started getting used to seeing him, he would talk to me basically, he said he was going to raise me and I know why my dad started to do drugs real bad and my mom was a workaholic. I was going to have to raise myself. My brother raised me and my dreams and when I was 15 he said to me it was time to go home and I said, “You are home, you’re here with me.” He smiled at me and hugged me and said that he was done raising and that god was calling him home now. I cried until I fell asleep while my brother held me and I felt a cold kiss on my cheek and whisper “I love you”. That was the last time I saw and heard from him.

(Sent in by Amanda)

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