I don’t know why but I have been thinking about when my brother was in the hospital for along time. My parents were supporting my relatives but they needed someone to support them. And I was like the only person supporting them. At least that is how it felt. I remember the first night like it was yesterday. I ended staying awake 3 days straight. Then we finally got a hotel room. I remember patient’s families coming and then going. I was always thinking, how come that’s not us leaving? We’ve been here forever and they only have been here so long. Yeah…well…I remember staying the night with my aunt and uncle in Manhattan a lot. I would hang out with my friends up there and went to parties. I pretty much tried to drink away my troubles and pain. I remember thinking that if my brother was going to die that I didn’t deserve to live. I wouldn’t know how to go on without him. I had my death all planned out in case my brother didn’t make it. Well now every time the phone rings I always think…Is that the police calling to tell us Bryant was in a wreck and he is dead or in the hospital? I don’t know what to think anymore. I feel like I’m going insane…people always ask me if I’m okay and I say I am…but I’m not sure that I actually am. I didn’t write all of this so people would feel sorry for me. I don’t need that. I wrote all of this because its been on my chest for over 2 years now and I couldn’t just keep it in. Alyssa