Brother
Beautiful, awesome
Twirling, talking, driving
Better half, inspiration, adversary, Mr. Hyde
Fighting, screaming, crying
Hateful, cruel
Drugs

I miss my bro. He's gone again, back to that person I hate, hate with all my heart, wish I could jump on and rip apart, find my brother hiding underneath, find him with his huge blue eyes and huge smile, running to pick me up and tiwlr me around when I come home on weekends... Not yell at me when I won't pick him up to skip school, or say I hate you because I told mom that eric drove him home drunk one night. I miss him so much, and I can't do anything about it. Nothing. Except cry about it when no one's around, be a drag on my friends when they take me out and all I can think about it how he looked at me like he wanted to kill me earlier, write about it in my journal.

Whoever said that drugs make you a better person is an idiot. They make you cruel and vicious, they hurt everyone around, they make the people who love you beyond measure never want to see you for fear they might jump on you and demand to talk to the kid hiding somewhere... Somewhere...

Where are you?

Are you in there? Behind the hate-filled eyes, the snarling mouth? Are you still there, my little brother who wore seashells on his head?

I miss you.

Please come back.