What goes through a mind

Pain

December 14, 2015

Today is the day my brother passed away. It was three years ago. Me and my brother used to very close, he knew all my secrets. I talked to him about the shit that was happening and he was the first to know I like guys.

The crash.

That day was probably the worst day of my life. When they told us he crashed, I couldn't breathe. That was the day I started cutting.

When he died a part of me died. I would never be the same. Jake was my missing  puzzle piece who was always there for me. Even when I said hurtful things to him he always seemed to forgive me.

~~

My brother was what you called an alcoholic and a druggie. I remember yelling at him for doing these things. But it seemed to every time I yelled at him I just made him do it more.

Jake had his whole life ahead of him. Only 19. He was in college. He was going for being a therapist to help people in need. He was always so happy when I saw him but I knew it was a facade.

I remember one night he game home stoned and drunk. That night he came in my room crying and swearing. He hit me. I didn't know how to react but only in shock. Me being a 12 year old boy.

I just stared at him with anger and worry. He kept saying sorry over and over again. About how he had to get out, he told me he was going for a drive he would be back soon.

He drove and drove. Until he wrecked into another which caused another car to go out in the lane they were in.

They said he died on impact.

He didn't suffer with the flames eating him alive. Nor did he feel any pain. He went away just as quickly as the crash. He was officially gone.

They called at 10:00pm saying he crashed and died. I heard sobbing so I ran downstairs to find my mother and father sobbing.

I was so confused but then she said three words.

"Not my Jake!"

She sobbed and yelled why him. Why my baby. He had a whole life in front of him. My poor baby. And she just kept sobbing.

I understood after a minute of thought. That's when my walls came down. I ran upstairs tears falling quickly. I ran into his bedroom. I laid on his bed and sobbed.

I sobbed for him to come back. For this to be a nightmare. That he would walk in and tell me to get the fuck off his bed. But no. He never did come back.
~~

So I was a good boy and blamed it all on me. I cut myself for pleasure, and to hide my guilt.

I could've stopped him.

....

A/N This is a pretty shit day for me so yeah. I'm trying to ignore the itch to cut. It you know....

Guilt always wins

R.I.P
Jake Dylan