My best friend/brother took his own life in September of 2018. It was so sudden. It still makes me feel sick trying to talk about it. Me and him were not close as children but for the past few years we started to bond and really feel like family, we talked about Everything together. We were pretty much inseperable. I lived in the house across the street from him so I always went to his house after school. I told him I'd come over after I cleaned the house.. but I didn't. I was tired so I was just going to get a shower and go to sleep early. As I just finished rinseing off, I heard my mom start screaming. I didn't know what was happening until I finally calmed her down enough and she said, "He shot himself." And my first reaction was to call 911. The woman on the other end said that it had already been called in. She asked how old I was and I said 18, she then asked how old my brother was and I said 16. Her voice changed, she sounded like SHE was about to cry. She kept telling me not to go over there, to stay in the house. After that I called my dad who had went to get everyone out of the house. He kept telling me, " Everything's going to be alright." So I asked him," So he's gonna be okay right?" His voice broke the cold silence as it ripped through the phone, " no." I calapsed and all I could do was beg God to take me instead. He was garduating before me. He wanted to be a police officer. He wanted a big family. I never had anything pland out, he diservied a good life. HE WAS DEAD FOR FIFTEEN MINUTES BEFORE ANYONE FOUND HIM. I SHOULD HAVE BEEN THERE. I was supposed to be there. He'd still be here.
