General Non-Fiction posted October 6, 2017

This work has reached the exceptional level
A very short essay.

My brother, my shadow.

by Rasmine

Last week I was walking through the woods on a trail, thinking and talking out loud to my brother, God, angels, to whoever on the other realm that was listening. When I was coming home, I felt someone behind me. I turned very quickly and I saw a man's shadow. It disappeared quite quickly, but I like to think, in fact I know, it was my brother -- it was Kenny.

I feel sad -- there are regrets, like why didn't I always send him a card on his birthday and Christmas? I didn't because he was the one who pushed me away -- now I regret doing what a big sister does. I feel that I should have called in June. Oh my God, was the urge strong, but I decided to stay away if that is what he wanted. Big mistake!! :( I may have been able to say goodbye to him. That feeling haunts me -- why in June? June was when he died. Maybe it was some kind of internal knowledge, but it didn't compel me enough. I did look up his information, though, to make sure he was okay. And yeah, there was no obit -- I did look for that then.

He had AIDS; I knew he would die from it. He came to me in a dream and told me, about two years ago, he didn't want me to see him the way he was, but to remember him back when I met him. In the dream, he was a very buffed cop. He was healthy when I first met him.

I am angry at his adopted family -- I cannot believe they never tried to reach me. I mean just because we didn't have contact did not mean I didn't care. If I didn't care, I wouldn't have been trying to make sure he was safe from hurricane Irma. They could now, at least send me an email; I left the address on his online memorial. I can't fathom the cruelness of what they didn't do. I don't care if they thought I wasn't his family -- I was his blood! That is very strong. When he was diagnosed with AIDS, I packed and was ready to go down there to take care of him. He stayed away from me when I told him. He didn't want me to do that. If I didn't care, I wouldn't have packed everything up.

Okay, this is longer than I thought, and I'm not editing. I just want to get my feelings out. Thank you, for reading this.


This is a true story. The photo is of me meeting my little big brother for the first time. (I said 'little big brother' because that is how he signed his letters.)
If something is non-fiction, it is usually true, is it not?
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