I remember the day my mother wouldn't let me into my brother's room. Something was wrong, though no one would tell me why. I was sent to bed early while my mother went out. Father stayed in the kitchen, talking to people, or maybe just someone on the phone.
Next morning I wondered where my brother was. Why isn't he in the crib? I don't remember anything after that until...
I remember everyone being dressed nice. I had a pretty dress on too. We all went into a building that smelled like flowers and quiet. Why is everyone being so quiet? Then I saw my little brother in a box, in a tiny suit, surrounded by flowers.
"Mommy, why don't you just pick Ricky up so we can go home?"
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I see death all around me now. It's weird how you almost become numb to it. Maybe it's because I don't know them, so it doesn't hurt as bad. It's always worse to talk to the family and friends. You feel for them, ya know? You just wanna take away their pain. It's like you'd rather hurt for them...
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