Sitting on his desk, he looked out the open window down the street. Kids were playing a game of kickball in the summer heat, one of those kids his six year old brother Joey. A tiny smile crossed his lips as he saw Joey run through the neighbor’s sprinkler to retrieve the ball.

But his face was soon again as sullen as it had been the past months. He couldn’t rememeber when he’d started to feel like this. But he remembered Joey asking him at Christmas, “Why you so sad on Christmas Bubba?” His heart pained when he thought of the way Joey would look at him, eyes full of disappointment and childlike wonder at the fact that someone could be sad on Christmas.

He didn’t want to be that kind of example for Joey. A dropout, drug addict, unemployed big brother. It killed him knowing that Joey still looked up to him.

With a sigh he finished the last line of the letter on his desk.

“I know I’ll be a better guardian angel than a big brother. Forgive me.”

He looked at the pills on his desk and began to cry.