Part 1-Sunday December 18th, 2005
Lately I've been feeling ok. I feel as tho it's wrong for me to feel ok but I have been. Occasionally I will get a gut wrenching feeling and begin to tear up. I've learned however, to hold it in so it isn't a full blown cry. Today as I was sitting on the porch swing I thought about my dad telling me my brother was dead.
Sunday evening Brandon had come to the house to pick up his laundry I had done for him. He was wearing army pants and a blue tshirt. He looked like something had taken control of him. Something out of the oridnary. My first thoughts were that he had done some kind of new drug. Something that he hadn't done before. He had always smoked pot. He had occasionally taken prescription pills and I know that he had also tried ecstasy and acid a few times. But this was different. I knew the Brandon that was "high". It wasn't him that day. I kept asking him what was wrong with him. Even Mike said that he wasn't his usual self. He was acting strangely. He was on the floor with the dog playing. Him playing with the dog on the floor was not unusual but the way he was doing it that day was. He asked if he could change Madison's diaper. I wouldn't let him. He argued that he knew how to change a diaper. I knew he did. I'd seen him do it before. That wasn't what was stopping me from letting him change her. It was the way he was acting. I couldn't take the chance of him letting her fall off the changing table.
I listened as he went to the basement to call a friend. I overheard him screaming at his friend about a gun the guy had borrowed. He said that he was going to pick the gun up. He would be there in a few minutes. I called my dad. I told him that Brandon was acting funny and asked him to come over right away. I didn't know what he was on but he wasn't acting himself at all. I stopped him as he was getting into his car. "Bran I'm gonna go with you". "Why" he asked as tho he knew I was up to something. I told him that I had to wait a few minutes. Mike's cousin was visiting and her mom was on her way to pick her up. He said he would wait in the car for me. As I stood in the house watching out the window I saw my dad pull up and jump out of the car before he actually put it in park. I heard them screaming at each other and I saw my dad push him. As I walked out my dad had taken his keys and thrown them across the driveway. He was yelling "I don't know what you're on but you're not driving anywhere. If you need your gun that badly your sister can drive you over there." Brandon was crying. I could hear it in his voice. He was sniffling and wiping his eyes. My dad didn't see it. He kept yelling at him. "You're on something. Why do your eyes look like that?...and your nose is running". I knew those things weren't from the "drugs". I started to believe that maybe he was really sick but I didn't know how he could be so sick or what kind of sickness would cause you to act like a different person. Brandon started walking down the street. He said he was going to walk home. He said that he hated my dad. My dad for the first time had acted concerned with my brother's drug habit. He said that "tomorrow" he was going to admit him to a rehab. He told Brandon that we were worried and concerned for him. That's why we didn't want him to drive.
My dad told me to let him walk home. He said that we would let him blow off some steam and talk to him about it the next day. He told me not to worry.
About an hour later my a friend of my brother's pulled in. I was on the phone with my dad at the time. I watched as Brandon got out of the car and into his own. He got something out. He came up to the door. I let him in and started questioning him more. He was still crying. He could barley breath he was crying so hard. He got his clothes and he told me thank you for doing his laundry. I asked him what was wrong with him and told him that I wanted to take him to the hospital. I don't remember what he said about going to the hospital at that time. He said he was going home and as he walked away to leave I yelled at him. "I have my own kid now Brandon. I can't take care of you anymore!" I didn't realize that those painful words would be the last I said to my brother.
I sat up most of the night. Worried. I called one of my best friends and asked her to check in with Brandon the next day. I told her my concerns and she said that she would be sure to give him a call. Brandon was like a brother to her. I knew she would do it.
Sunday evening Brandon had come to the house to pick up his laundry I had done for him. He was wearing army pants and a blue tshirt. He looked like something had taken control of him. Something out of the oridnary. My first thoughts were that he had done some kind of new drug. Something that he hadn't done before. He had always smoked pot. He had occasionally taken prescription pills and I know that he had also tried ecstasy and acid a few times. But this was different. I knew the Brandon that was "high". It wasn't him that day. I kept asking him what was wrong with him. Even Mike said that he wasn't his usual self. He was acting strangely. He was on the floor with the dog playing. Him playing with the dog on the floor was not unusual but the way he was doing it that day was. He asked if he could change Madison's diaper. I wouldn't let him. He argued that he knew how to change a diaper. I knew he did. I'd seen him do it before. That wasn't what was stopping me from letting him change her. It was the way he was acting. I couldn't take the chance of him letting her fall off the changing table.
I listened as he went to the basement to call a friend. I overheard him screaming at his friend about a gun the guy had borrowed. He said that he was going to pick the gun up. He would be there in a few minutes. I called my dad. I told him that Brandon was acting funny and asked him to come over right away. I didn't know what he was on but he wasn't acting himself at all. I stopped him as he was getting into his car. "Bran I'm gonna go with you". "Why" he asked as tho he knew I was up to something. I told him that I had to wait a few minutes. Mike's cousin was visiting and her mom was on her way to pick her up. He said he would wait in the car for me. As I stood in the house watching out the window I saw my dad pull up and jump out of the car before he actually put it in park. I heard them screaming at each other and I saw my dad push him. As I walked out my dad had taken his keys and thrown them across the driveway. He was yelling "I don't know what you're on but you're not driving anywhere. If you need your gun that badly your sister can drive you over there." Brandon was crying. I could hear it in his voice. He was sniffling and wiping his eyes. My dad didn't see it. He kept yelling at him. "You're on something. Why do your eyes look like that?...and your nose is running". I knew those things weren't from the "drugs". I started to believe that maybe he was really sick but I didn't know how he could be so sick or what kind of sickness would cause you to act like a different person. Brandon started walking down the street. He said he was going to walk home. He said that he hated my dad. My dad for the first time had acted concerned with my brother's drug habit. He said that "tomorrow" he was going to admit him to a rehab. He told Brandon that we were worried and concerned for him. That's why we didn't want him to drive.
My dad told me to let him walk home. He said that we would let him blow off some steam and talk to him about it the next day. He told me not to worry.
About an hour later my a friend of my brother's pulled in. I was on the phone with my dad at the time. I watched as Brandon got out of the car and into his own. He got something out. He came up to the door. I let him in and started questioning him more. He was still crying. He could barley breath he was crying so hard. He got his clothes and he told me thank you for doing his laundry. I asked him what was wrong with him and told him that I wanted to take him to the hospital. I don't remember what he said about going to the hospital at that time. He said he was going home and as he walked away to leave I yelled at him. "I have my own kid now Brandon. I can't take care of you anymore!" I didn't realize that those painful words would be the last I said to my brother.
I sat up most of the night. Worried. I called one of my best friends and asked her to check in with Brandon the next day. I told her my concerns and she said that she would be sure to give him a call. Brandon was like a brother to her. I knew she would do it.
posted by Kimberley | 7:36 PM
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