I am Beaten. I am Broken. I have Fallen Down. I have Watched It All.

Maybe if she had come up sooner. Maybe if she had spoken out.

But I couldn’t. She thought to herself. Her grades were steadily dropping. They didn’t care anymore. They had never understood her drive, her Passion to be the best. But she did. She had to get noticed somehow. In a family of Over-Achievers she wanted to be noticed. To be Recognized for something. But not anymore.

Maybe if she had come up sooner. Maybe if she had spoken out.

But she didn’t. And now he was gone, a memory, a whisper, a fading light to be eventually forgotten, to be let go of. That’s what the therapists said right? That they had to let go, they had to move-on. But you can’t, you never really do.

He was by the tree, they were on vacation. ‘Lets go show him what we caught!’ She exclaimed. She beamed back at her in response. He was the older brother he would be proud of what they caught. They walked gingerly, but carefully, they didn’t want to hurt their creature.

‘Look!’ they said showing him, but he didn’t notice. He was busy with something else. It was something smoky with a slight sweet smell. It made her start coughing and the other girl to drop their creature. ‘Don’t tell mom and dad.’ He said in a voice that was not his own. They couldn’t do anything but nod their heads and shakily walk back to the hotel.

STOP! She told herself. School no longer held a distraction for her. He was gone, there was nothing she could do now.

But maybe if she had come up sooner. Maybe if she had spoken out.

12:00 a.m. ‘You wanna go do kartwheels?’ She said. ‘But it’s midnight!’ She replied, but she was already walking to the door. She shook her head and followed her. ‘What if we had pictures of us in mid-air!’ She exclaimed. Thrilled by the idea of new face book pictures. ‘But who’s gonna take them?’ She asked her friend. ‘Ask your brother.’ She replied, shrugging.

She walked up to the porch where he regarded her with solemn eyes, but they held something else a spark, an easiness and care freeness she usually didn’t see. And then she saw it. It was different than last time slightly fatter and it smelled different, like leaves being burnt almost, but then there was that sweet, smoky tang to the smell too.

She ignored it. This was her older brother. It’s just a faze. She told herself, it’ll be gone my next week. ‘He’s not in the mood right now.’ She told her friend. The first lie of many.
It’s just a faze.
A faze
A faze

But it wasn’t. The things he did were never a faze. History repeated itself far too frequently with him. A faze turned into a habit. A habit turned into more and more. A little wasn’t enough anymore. No, he needed more.

‘What are you doing!’ She cried. She had walked into his room wanting to ask for a pencil, but things were never that simple. Was it so hard to believe that you could walk into a room, ask for a pencil, leave and get on with your life? In her world yes. Now when she walked in all she saw was red. Blood. Everywhere. Coming from his wrist. He was in tears. She never understood the pain that came with someone you looked up to crying. Now she did. Cause believe it or not she looked up to him. She asked him questions about boys, how to wear her hair, how to dress. He was her idol. Believe it or not she wanted to be like him, to gain his trust, to laugh and joke with him like he did with his friends. But no. She saw this side of him. The side that was bawling, tears streaming down his face, wrist covered and bleeding.

She didn’t want to and couldn’t handle this. People couldn’t see her as the girl with a messed up family. They cant know. They cant know. She thought to herself. But watching him do that, she wanted them to know, wanted them to understand what she kept inside, what she couldn’t speak of, what she couldn’t tell. Why her grades weren’t the A’s they used to be. Why she got the occasional C. But no. They cant see their son like this. They cant handle it.

That’s what she told herself every time she came close to telling them. They wouldn’t do anything anyway. When she had tried to tell them they had called it Anger and Spite, that her words were unbelievable that someone else told them to her. She didn’t know anything, she didn’t understand. But she did. Oh, but she did. She understood more than they could even fathom a girl like her knowing. She understood that the whole time that he was screaming for help. That he needed that help. But No. No. Is what they told her. She was acting juvenile. She was lying. A liar is what she was. Is she a liar now? Do you believe her now? He’s gone, so tell me do you believe her now? Or is she wrong was it an accident that he took all those pills? Tell yourself all you want. But she knows the truth. She saw him slowly and steadily go off the deep end. Saw him jump over the edge. She knew. She knew.

Maybe if she had come up sooner. Maybe if she had spoken out.

Did she want to recall these memories of him? No. No one wants to remember their idol, the one they would do anything for like she remembered him.

‘He looks just like me!’ He said laughing his normal laugh, the one he had when haircuts didn’t matter, when rebelling wasn’t his thing. ‘No he doesn’t!’ She said as he continued to look at her screensaver. ‘Yeah he does, sis.” he said, before striking the same laughing pose the guy on the screen was doing. They both laughed and he walked back inside smiling. Remember him. Remember him.

But she couldn’t. She wanted so badly to. But she couldn’t. This was not how she remembered him.

He forgot to log out. She was a curious sister she just wanted to mess with him. This is what sister and brother did. But he wasn’t much of a brother anymore. No. he had stopped a long time ago.

He had one new message. From some girls name she didn’t recognize. The rest of the messages had been deleted, just the one from the girl:
Girl: But WHERE do you hide them!?!
Him: In my closest in the back. My parents are stupid as hell. They don’t suspect a thing.
Girl: Nice.
She stared at the computer screen , her mouth hanging open. No. He didn’t hide stuff. No.

She quickly went into his room and opened the closest and looked in the back. There they were. Just like the message said. Everywhere. Empty, full, half tasted, some open, some closed. ‘What are you doing?’ Said a voice from behind her. She whipped around to find her mom standing in the door an accusing glare twisting her features. ‘I was just…looking for a suitcase and I found something you should see.’ She was gonna tell her, this was it. Her mom gestured to get on with it. But she cant. She cant do this to her bother. She could just deny it and move on. It wouldn’t be true. ‘Nothing…its…nothing.’

But it wasn’t. It wasn’t nothing, is what they told her later.

Maybe if she had come up sooner. Maybe if she had spoken out.

But that’s the thing she didn’t. She had finally stopped caring. Not for her brother, no of course not. No she stopped caring for her parents. Her parents who were afraid to do anything, who thought he would do something drastic if they didn’t do anything. He was screaming for help mom and dad. Everyone saw, everyone knew so why cant you? You sat back and watched, you turned the other shoulder, denying that your son would do something if you confronted him, if you tried to help. But look now. Oh, wait you cant look. Because guess what he is gone. And why? Its not a hard question. Its because you sat back and watched. But She didn’t. No She didn’t She was right along beside him through his whole downfall.

She was his shadow, the fly on the wall, blending into the paint, keeping quiet because She disappointed you when She told. She was a liar when She told. That’s what she thought sitting in class, almost in tears because the bell was about to ring. She didn’t want to leave. Because leaving would mean going home, back to the life with him not in it anymore.

The gohsts of him were everywhere and thinking back to anyone outside the house, no one would’ve noticed because he was just a normal teenager. He liked face book and girls and though he denied it, he cared what people thought of him. He just wanted help. But when someone offered it, or turned away, in spite because you couldn’t stand the thought of someone acknowledging his problems.



But it’s ok. Cause she’s done. She’s done now. It doesn’t matter if she had come up sooner, which she did. It didn’t matter if she had spoken out, because she did.


Cause guess what you lost not one kid, but two. Because the bridge that’s built is to high to cross now.

But I tried. I told you. I could go on forever you want more stories? I have tons. Tons. Yeah. Pretty Sad. But like I said I tried. Its in your hands now. Go for it.

But this is just a story right? I have stories, remember? Tons. Just a story…