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I see my brother. He looks sad, as usual. I try to cheer him up, I juggle. He just looks sadder.I watch his depressed face, and realise why he is sad. I offer him some things, like food, but he does not want any of it. He walks up to his room, and I don’t follow. I do my normal things, thinking about how bad I feel for him. The incident.

After a while, he comes back downstairs. He hugs me, not his normal self, and gives me an envelope. He says, “Don’t open this until it happens.” Confused, I ask him why, but he just walks away. Away from me. Atleast I tried to help.

Two days later, on May 19, 2015, I get a call from the police. They tell me my brother is dead. Along with his wife.

I hang up, and start to sob. Wondering why. Why would he do this to me. I then realise what he meant by it.

I open the envelope and read:

“I sat there at my computer. Watching my son juggle three tennis balls. I remember when he first started, and he tried over and over. Jeremy, my dog, gave him courage to do this. I can’t talk to my son that often. He is far away. I sometimes get to see him do things, like juggle, or show me a drawing that he drew for me, but it is not the same. He was 20 when he left. He drove to college that one day, that great day that I felt so proud. I wanted to stay there forever, him right there. Hugging. Tears streaming, as I watched him leave the driveway in his car. I did not want the thing to come. I wanted him to stay forever. The video is on the screen. Tons of images playing really fast. My dog nudges my leg, looking sad. He has always been lonely and different since my son left.

I continue watching the young boy do things for me. I have watched them before, a lot. Jeremy lays on the floor, looking in the distance. He probably remembers the last time he could ever see my son. The time when my son stared into his eyes and gave him one last hug.

I click another file and watch that, too. Tearing up, I continue watching. Remembering the incident that made everybody’s life worse. May 19, 2014. The driver that hit him. It ended it for us all. I hear my dog’s heart beat one last beat, then fail to beat any more. He was too alone. Too depressed to go on. Tears streaming down my face, I touch the screen one last time and close the computer. I get my wife and take her outside. I wrote this note to you to understand why I did this, and that you made my life better.

Thanks.”

Then I realise why.

By Crazeyzaney