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Hey heres a new story of mine. Let me know what you think!


By: Christian Miner


         Hi. My name is jack. I thought I’d tell this story to you. Just to clear up any confusion about what happened here in Chainbridge. Anyway, huh, where do I start? I guess my brother, Daniel, twelve years old at the time. He was born before me and we never really got along, until now of course. We were raised in a middle class home and had a generally mediocre child-hood, and sure maybe we could be a little whiny sometimes but we were overall good to our parents and never (or at least not frequently) complained when things didn’t go our way. But one day when we woke up to get ready and go to school Daniel wouldn’t eat, much unlike him considering he usually eats like a horse. But my mom and I shook it off and I got on the bus with him. We sat down in the back, like usual. But when I got on the bus after school Daniel wasn’t there. I got home to find him already there. He was lying on the couch, he looked sick, almost unsettling. But I assumed he just had a stomach flu, which was confirmed by my mother when she told me to play upstairs because Daniel wasn’t feeling well. So I did, and for the rest of the day we heard nothing from Daniel, he slept all day long, again much unlike his energetic self. But that didn’t bother me, what set me off was the fact that we didn’t hear from him the next morning either, or for the next week while he was in the hospital, nor for the next three months, he was in a coma. The doctors were unsure what had caused this, but, one day, he just, woke. And surprised yet startled at the same time, my mother and I drove over to the hospital to see him. He was awake all right, but he wasn’t… I guess I could say, like himself. He seemed different. While we drove him home, he didn’t call out “Punch buggy!” and slug me in the arm, he didn’t do anything, at all. He just stared out the window, motionless, with a blank stare. We couldn’t get him to talk, or answer any questions. School was boring after that, seeing as he couldn’t go for another week. But a week went by quicker than I thought it would. Then the morning mom said he could go, he got ready normally and ate his cereal normally, everything seemed back on track, except for the fact that, he still wouldn’t talk. We ran off to the bus stop and waited. I was to eager to hold back my will to ask what it was like, if he remembered anything, maybe drifting off to sleep, how long it seemed like it had been, so many questions drifted around in my head, I thought I’d die before I asked any of them. But I asked. “Hey… Daniel, how you doing buddy?” I asked in a fake happy go lucky mood type of voice. No answer. Then the bus rolled in, and we had to get on. Some kids asked Daniel where he had been all that time, and weather he was completely better or not. I had to answer for him most times because all they got was silence in return for there questions, and that same, blank, cold stare Daniel had worn ever since he woke up. But other kids, threw paper at him, called him names, and yelled in his ears. And as I looked over to Daniel to see how he was reacting, I saw a different one in his eyes, one so terrifying is made me double take, and want to throw up. I guess the other kids saw it to because the bus was silent. Then the bus driver yelled from the front of the bus “We’re here!” everyone got up and headed to the door of the bus, and continued to the school doors. Daniel was worrying me more then ever now, and I didn’t know what to do. My brother was trapped in an empty hull, one he could not control the feelings or reactions to, and so he locked himself in. Weeks went on, months, and then years. Never a word from Daniel in those years that, turned grayer and grayer throughout the process of living with Daniel. When Daniel turned six-teen, he started to get worse then ever. He started to decline in movement some days. Eventually Daniel dropped out of school, unable to complete the simplest tasks, even writing a simple paper, one page long. But a month after his birthday, he was sitting on the carpet, watching television with me. My mom was in her bedroom sleeping off a headache. When Daniel… Daniel turned his head and. “j..j…jack.” I dropped my popcorn spilling it all over the floor. I yelled as loud as I could “MOM! MOM DANIEL SAID MY NAME!” I held Daniel in my arms so tight that day I was worried I would snap him in two. My mother came running down the stairs and almost tripped. “What!? Daniel baby, Daniel say something!” yelled my mom. “M-m-mom. H-hi mom.” He said in a shaky voice. “Oh my god, Daniel baby.” My mother held him to. We eventually gave up suffocating my brother and decided to sit at the table with him and just, just be happy. We thought that it was all over and that nothing could get better. He had a story on the news. But he refused interviews, and wouldn’t tell us anything. But we were blinded by happiness to the fact that it was bad he wouldn’t talk. One day a week later, a Friday I think, my mother received a call. It was from the Virginia police department. They had found Daniel… he was… Daniel had taken his own life. My mom and I couldn’t take it. We both cried and cried for days on end it seemed. And we both refused to read the letter that Daniel had left next to the gun. But one day we realized that we couldn’t just leave it, that we had to find out, why, Daniel would do it. So we sat down and read together. I’ll never forget that letter.


Dear Jack and Mom.

I want you to know that I love you both, so much. But at this point I can’t take it anymore. They were voices at first, then blurry figures in the distance. But then they would always be next to me. They would show me terrible past experiences, like the car crash that took dad away from us. I couldn’t live like that. But remember me, ok? Think of me every night before bed, never leave me, and I’ll never leave you. I cant wait to meet dad. I’ll tell him that Jack hasn’t changed a bit, and that “Mom cant stop reading that magazine” And we’ll laugh. Just like old times huh Jack?


Love, Daniel.


Not many attended the funeral, but I know that he was looking down at us, as we were at him, and that he was laughing with dad, just like old times.


I wont forget you Daniel. I promise.

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