When up the steps into the small messy apartment which was unusually hazy with a bunch of guys through the place that I had never seen before. I looked around to see my brother among them and his usually bright blue eyes were red. I was confused because these weren’t the type of guys my brother usually hung out with. “ Just go to your room until I tell you to come out”, he said slowly when I tried to talk. Yeah he was my older brother but he wasn’t my parent, but it's not liked I cared about them anyway. I didn’t mean anything to them so naturally, the feeling was mutual.

The next day I came home and my brother decided to take me shopping which was rare. “Shouldn’t this money be going towards the rent?” I asked watching him skeptically. He pulled out all these hundreds and told me not to worry. I didn’t worry because he had always been that perfect role model. Yeah he was that guy. Star of the sports teams, Mr.popular who got good grades, and all the girls wanted him. He did all of this and kept a steady job to make a better life for himself -- for us. He always said it was just us two until death do us part. After all, the only thing that we really had was each other and that's all that mattered. No girl could even break our bond, we were just that close. But something else did. He started coming home way after his shift at the McDonald's just down the street, had ended. It usually only took him about five minutes to get home but then it started taking an hour, then two and so forth.

Then came the teachers, coaches, and friends asking about him and telling me I had to do something about him skipping as if I was the older brother. I decided that I would confront him and see why I had been seeing less of him lately. I missed my older brother. I missed throwing rocks at cars riding by with him. I missed him ruffling my chestnut brown hair even when I said I hated it. We didn’t have much but we had each other and I missed the relationship that we used to have.

So I waited up for him one night until about one in the morning when the house phone rang. I picked up the cheap house phone and walked to the couch making the cord drag behind me. It was Anthony. He told me to grab as much money as I could find and to bring it to Oregon Avenue. By his rapid breathing and how quick the line went out I could tell something was up. I wasted no time and ran to his sock drawer and pulled out a wad of hundred dollar bills. Then I grabbed my rusty red bike, ran out the house and began to pedal as fast as my legs would take me. When I got there, it was a bunch of guys surrounding my brother who was bruised and my bike. I could make out that Anthony had mouthed “stay back Joey” but I didn’t listen. All I bloody. Everyone were too focused on beating him up that they didn’t even notice me pull up on was focused on was getting them away from him. I guessed my running alarmed them because the next thing I remember was hearing a gun go off which changed my life forever.