Wailing sirens, raging storm, frigid air, children crying, a silent boy, hardly a man, and parents with unseeing eyes.
Seven years ago, the Brunswick's lives changed forever. Heading home from the city, Amanda and John Brunswick crashed during a mid October storm. John stayed conscious long enough to call paramedics, and died on the way to the hospital. Amanda died on impact. The two left behind their 19 year old son, Leon, to take care of his 8 year old brothers, Theodore and Titus. Today marks the anniversary of Amanda and John's death, and- as always- a bundle of flowers is there.
|Art and Photos are not mine unless specified|
[Swearing is censored]
{PTSD, anxiety, and depression}
Take care of yourself readers. I cannot be responsible for choices you make.
He was the best and worst older brother. I thought I'd never be able to say, "hey, you turned out to not be a complete douche". His smile was the best, his influence changed my world. His death knocked me off balance. he died for a monster named Heroin, and I'll never forgive him completely for it. Yeah, miss him? Tons. Never forgive? Possibly.
At the moment, I don't know what to think.
That's why I'm trying to sort this shit out. I'm going to find forgiveness somewhere, but he'll have to work for it. Dead or alive.