Prologue

The days are gloomy without him; never will there be someone like him ever again. How I miss his perky smile, all of his charisma to make me happy no matter how I felt. Soon tears begin to flow out of my eyes, they flow out so easily, but on the inside I feel this deep pressure pounding against my chest. Hurting every time a tear drops; wanting all of the pain to go away. I try to remember the last…

Months before

“Students, before the bell rings I wish for you all to have-”
The bell rings before Mr. Passwater can finish his sentence. All the class swarms out, eager to leave for summer break. However, I want to treasure my last day of school, so I go and say bye to all of my teachers; thanking them for my Sophomore year, but then it hits me. Sammie. As I shove people out of the way including teachers, I only have one thing on my mind. Getting to Sammie’s school, mom told me to pick him up today, since she was working overtime and I don’t want to repeat last month’s lecture. It was long minutes of mom saying,
“I can’t believe that you left your little brother at school for an hour, he was crying while walking home! Walking home! You have to be more responsible and less selfish, missy. He could have been kidnapped for godsake.” I was very upset that day because no one ever asked why I was late or how my day was. Everyone had to be updated about Sammie’s well being. While I on the other hand failed my geometry test just before vacation and might have to attend Summer school.
I turn the corner, I see Sammie there jumping on the rocks. BEEP!
He jumps from the sound then he runs over to the car.
“What took you so long, Dianne?”
“Well, I was having trouble in the bathroom,” I responded. “You know, having trouble letting go of the caterpillars.” We start laughing uncontrollably.
“Way too much information, for my taste,” he says.
We arrive home, and I am eager to do my extra credit work for psychology class (also failing) but notice something strange, Sammie is wearing long sleeves and pants in the summer. I shrug it off, maybe he didn’t have any clean clothes. I arrive at my messy, black desk trying to answer the topic question “why do we dream?” I am staring at the paper and pencil but see no interest, I put it aside and search for any breaking news on my computer.. one catches my eye. It’s about a boy who experienced bullying to the extreme and died because of his severe injuries. Below the story there is a “Signs that your child is experiencing bullying” link for anyone who might want to prevent or help their child, just as I am about to click on it, someone yells,
“Front and center!” Dad is home and I rush to get downstairs first because Sammie and I are very competitive; at everything, we greet our dad then moments later mom gets home. Mom doesn’t want to cook so we go out to eat. Afterwards, I try focusing on my book, when suddenly I am stopped by my vibrating walls. There is a loud noise coming from Sammie’s room, and as soon as I walk in his room, he is punching his wall. ( It hasn’t been the first time that he has done this. There have been more incidents.)
“Sammie, what are you doing?” He is punching and punching that soon I see blood.
“Go away.” He comes at me full speed, knocking the breath out of me. Hardly able to breath I say,
“Please Sammie, just stop.”
“You’re like everyone else,” he yells, “get OUT OF MY ROOM!”
Before he can say anything else, I use all my leftover strength to hold him tight as possible and wait until he calms down. His face is burning red and he begins to yell and yell. Kicking to be released, then in a matter of minutes I see tears coming out eyes. Shortly after crying he starts laughing. This went on for what seemed like hours but he eventually falls asleep and there I was sitting in shock, wondering what happened? Asking to myself if this was my little brother, is there something wrong? Instead of feeling worried, anger and jealousy fill me because he never stops to think how the people around him will be affected from his scenarios.
Me: The ignored child
Sammie: The star child

Next Morning

Mom and dad have left for work very angry, yet considered about little Sammie(always Sammie), which means that I am alone.The nerves are killing me; I was up all night thinking to myself if what I experienced actually happened, or if it was all a daydream. Although I am afraid to get hit again with a huge bruise on my side to remind me of it, I get enough courage to go and ask Sammie what happened.
My head peeks in, making sure he doesn’t rage out again. He is still asleep, before I close the door he says,
“Dianne?”
“Yeah, bud?”
“I’m sorry. My feelings took over, and I lost control. My intentions weren't to hurt you, but they just did.” Even though I am still mad I respond,
“Don’t worry about it. However, I do want to know, why you said that I was like everyone else. Tell me, what was that all about?”
He grunts, refusing to tell me.
“Sammie,” I say, “please tell me, I can’t help you if you don’t tell me.” This was the problem; Sammie never wanted help, and it would get me really annoyed.
“Fine,” he takes a deep inhale and lets it all out, “I don’t know what happens to me, but my emotions change from happy to sad or angry to depressed, and all the kids at school make fun of me. There are these boys who told me to watch out this summer, since I accidently kicked their friend really hard.”
“Okay, but Sammie, they can’t hurt you school is out, so you need to stop acting like a four year old. You’re seven now so stop throwing tantrums because punching the wall isn’t exactly going to help you.” His face looks hurt and wilted, and his eyes begin to tear up.
“Well maybe I can’t handle it, Dianne.”
“Sammie if you would speak up and stop being a coward, we could all help you “handle” it, so stop wanting so much attention all the time.” A regret. Losing control of myself in front of beloved brother.
Present

Seeing all the umbrellas and hearing my mother’s wails,  makes me sick. In my heart I know that if my words wouldn’t have come out, just a little more control he would have still been here. My brother had borderline personality disorder, which made him have different personalities whenever his emotions were in whack, he was diagnosed at the age of three and my parents kept it hidden from me.
Classmates bullied him at school and he tried his hardest not to explode. He needed the extra attention, but I was unsupportive, (jealous) just like everyone else. I wasn't there for him when he needed me the most, when his classmates would pinch him leaving bruises behind.
Although school was over, the kids would bug him anywhere they could and soon it became too much for him to handle. I try to remember the last time that Sammie made me feel like I was an amazing person.
The air was crisp, very light yet cold. Sammie was five, when suddenly I heard a shriek for help. He had fallen off the swing, I immediately rushed to his aid. There was a huge gash on his knee and all I could see in his eyes were fear and pain. Shortly after I had calmed and cleaned him; I made him chicken noodle soup. He hugged me, telling me that I was the best sister ever. Everything stopped that instant, my heart beat with glee. Those words motivated me every single day, pushing me to my limits but then the enlightening moment fades.
The sorrow kicks in, reminding me that he is gone, and it’s not a daydream. He killed himself, wanting to find peace. Scanning through my brain wanting to grasp on another joyful memory, besides the tree swing fall. The only one that comes to mind is when we laughed during the car ride home from school. Bonding and sharing our secrets.
I didn’t want that to be our last engaging moment we shared, but it was indeed, my unwanted last.