How to Greive a Little Brother

Where do I Lie This November?

It's been over a week since I found out. My mom had texted me to let me know that she was pulling me out of class for the day, it was the first time I took my meds since the Friday before- it was now Monday and I was having an anxiety attack in Stat. I spent a good amount of time joking with my friend trying to calm down and saying I was going to lose it if it was for something dumb. 

I came out of the school doors, my mom-standing right outside like she had never before, her arms crossed with a look of either a - you're in deep shit - or -deep shits happening- look on her face. She moved her arms in a sickening way able to disclose the information that was about to wreck my world at any second.  I remember how beautiful it was outside, being my second period there was still traces of orange in the sky waiting for the sun to completely rise. Mocking me, mocking the words my mom wasted no time to get out " ***** Killed himself" immediately I felt the air escape me. Clawing at my throat to get out, but I couldn't breathe. The feeling of my warm tears immediately poured down my cheeks combating the cold wind as we walked to her truck in the cul-de-sac.  The only thing I could think of to do was to text my best friend. it came out jumbled nonsense, as do most of my texts, but this time It was because I couldn't see my screen.

"My brother killedhimsrlf"

My baby brother who used to debate me on if I was going over the serving size of the ranch, who believed me when I told him he could tye die with paint (which I thought you could honestly) my baby brother who rocked footie pajamas like they were daily attire. That same baby brother of mine was gone. 

Having not seen my dad, or his family since my 8th-grade year I wasn't expecting this to be when I'd see them next. My little brother was my stepbrother since 4th grade, but he pulled enough of his shenanigans that I felt the label of "step" was only for legal terms, either way, my father terminated his parental rights. Leaving me the unnamed sibling, which hurts, but in a way that I one don't want to seem like I was attention-seeking, two have to explain that over and over, three he was still my little brother. The kid I let tag along with when my friends asked to hang out because I wanted him to. 

I never thought I would be hurt so much by a hug, or by the sounds someone made. Until I hugged my dad, I was hurt by not only his weeps but my own. I haven't accepted a hug from anyone since that day, I can't without breaking down. My dad, who has male pattern baldness and embraces it by shaving everything besides his goatee/beard told me "your hair is ridiculous" ....now I have dreamt of what I would say to him when I turned 18, with a mixture of hurt, anger, and hope as to which I was quick to hit him with " I'm just rocking what you can't" paired with my congested laugh. 

I don't know what to say, I've neglected myself the whole time. I feel so broken, so angry so tired. 

there is never a point where anyone should have to know every detail of their little brother's suicide. Yet here I stand, writing this trying to realize this will forever be a change in my life. These are the moments before the rest of my life is spent without him.

I didn't go to school, the whole week. I wallowed and skipped his visitation. I've become an illiterate choking mess. I went to his funeral though, I wasn't in the obituary, but my sisters were. That's -I say it's okay and that I understand-  but it hurts me so much. I feel like I don't get to grieve.

 When I saw his body, It was like my body was being shredded apart and torn and pulled from all sides and I couldn't breathe. I know that I barely looked at him, but It still haunts me. it still tears my mind. seeing him, so clearly not him anymore. Snapping me to face the reality, every time I think I can forget. I remember looking at him. I try to pretend it's all a lie I've made up, and that my sisters will tell me a new story of him.

But they won't, there are no new stories to be made.