On January 29th, my beautiful baby brother lay peacefully inside a wooden casket with a million pairs of damp eyes gazing upon him. He had such a wonderful life ahead of him. He passed at the ripe age of six and a half, leaving his spirit and young legacy behind. A clever boy, with many talents I would never be able to count were gone. I wiped my face dry with the front of my dress and rested my head on Piper's shoulder. Why must God give the greatest people the greatest tragedies? His eyelids covered his crystal ball blue eyes and his fair skin was dusted in baby pink blush. "One year left to live," the doctors claimed. One year came early, and Nico's life came to a heartbreaking half eleven months too soon. Fuck eleven months, he had years ahead of him. For I will always mourn the tragic loss of my perfect brother, I will never fail to believe he was an angel before God gave him his wings. Fly high, my baby boy. I love you forever and always. I'll see you soon, pinky promise.
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I don't even have a brother let alone a dead one and I cried while writing this F
